Make Believe
by fia's rapier
Summary: In a game of pretend, how real will the feelings get? Will Harry follow the rules or take a risk by bringing a hidden truth to the surface? Years after the war, Harry and Hermione are about to discover that things are more complicated than they are.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Hello everyone! This story is an adaptation from a story, **Charades**, that my friend let me read a while back. So it will contain themes/sentences related to the said story or the books in Harry Potter. I love how this turned out and tried to make it original, so I hope you'll get to appreciate it! Please R&R!

Special thanks to my awesome friend and BETAs, **anitablakefan2007 **for helping me mold this story and for so much more and to **Rutoh-Chan** who gave me interesting ideas and helped me with the errors! You guys are really awesome and I thank you for helping me bring this story to life! Thank you so much for all the hard work!

**Summary: **In a game of pretend, how real will the feelings get? Will Harry follow the rules or take a risk by bringing a hidden truth to the surface? Set six years after the war, Harry and Hermione are about to discover that things are more complicated than they appear. DH-compliant, no epilogue.

* * *

**MAKE BELIEVE**

_by Fia's Rapier_

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

Calm, he was deathly calm. Considering what had happened during the past few hours, the calm he emitted was disturbing at best. The man's superior was plagued by the silence as the pair walked together, their footsteps ringing in the superior's head driving him to the brink of insanity. It started to bother his ears so much that it took all of his control just to keep moving forward. Awkward moments like these were still a bother to him, even in all the years they'd known each other.

How many times had he seen his subordinate like this? He actually couldn't remember a single other instance that the young man had been this calm. Yet there were no words that could escape the superior's lips, for he was not sure if his companion would answer his query, it would be just too awkward for them both. Glancing over, the older man observed how the other's lips were pursed. Even at the young age of 24, the lines in his face betrayed the experiences that made him more mature.

"Harry, are you sure about this?" the Minister of Magic finally blurted out, stopping the Auror in his tracks. "I don't think now is the right time to continue work."

The man sighed as he turned to face Kingsley Shacklebolt. The Minister truly had a kind heart and that was one of the reasons why Harry continued to be his guard, an assignment given to him by the Head Auror himself. His mind told him that they had to drop this conversation now – for in the passing second… in the passing moments… he was losing his courage.

"Don't worry too much, Minister. Ron and our friends… they will be there to protect her. I, er – it's better if I don't abandon my post now that everything is an utter mess. Also, I will still be able to investigate the case while I am here."

Kingsley quickly noticed the hesitation in Harry's voice. His emerald eyes betrayed what he truly wanted to do, for what he said was not what was truly in his heart. In all the years that he served in the Ministry, never before had Kingsley seen the Auror so withdrawn. Judging from the tension that radiated from him and his words, Kingsley could tell that Harry only wanted to go to her.

"Harry Potter!" Kingsley barked, making the other people in the hall look towards their direction. Harry was also surprised by the tone the Minister had used. That name was something everyone revered; it was Harry who had led the battle years ago, and it was he who restored the peace. It was the name of the man who killed the Dark Lord, the boy who won.

Kingsley could hear the people's murmurs now as they spoke in hushed tones. Satisfied that he caught the young man's attention, the Minister offered a small smile. "If you are worried about my safety, you needn't to be. I can take care of myself."

"But Kingsley, they might be planning to try to take over the Ministry! I made a vow…"

"_Might_. I release you from that vow, and I'm sure Gawain will understand." He shook his head as he tried to find the right words, and patted Harry's shoulder. "Your love for the people… the sacrifices you made for us… made you ignore what you _really_ want…"

Harry felt the ache in his chest. He knew she was going to be fine, she was strong. But that didn't stop the guilt that flowed in his veins… if he had only been there, maybe she wouldn't have had to experience it and the Ministry wouldn't be in this dilemma. He desperately wanted to be by her side… but it only caused him pain to remember that look in her eyes, the one time he had gone there.

Kingsley Shacklebolt sighed heavily. He knew that this young man valued his loved ones more than his own life. Whatever was holding him back, causing him to flee and turn to work just to forget, puzzled the Minister to no end.

"Very well then, Auror Potter, you leave me no choice," he said with the stoic tone he only used at work. He knew that girl needed Harry, now more than ever. To resolve their issues, Kingsley had no choice but to give this order. He drew his wand from his back pocket and looked Harry in the eye. "You are to protect a member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, namely, Ms. Hermione Granger, until the perpetrators in this case have been caught and the threat to our Ministry is removed."

"Minister!"

"This is an order. I will not tolerate such insubordination, even from you," the Minister stated, binding his order with a spell. "You are to stay by her side. Surely, there is no one better to guard her life than you."

"I am the reason why they used her, can't you see that?" Harry growled, his voice laced with hurt and disappointment. "They threatened her to get to _me_."

But Kingsley ignored his comment as he finished his spell. Satisfied that the spell would work perfectly, he turned to his subordinate. "We don't know for sure. And you are the best one to take care of her. Do not disappoint me, Potter."

Soon, the Minister was off, leaving the lone Auror in the empty hallway. Harry did not even have the voice to defy the Minister's wishes. His feet refused to move, so he couldn't run after Kingsley to tell him this wouldn't work. He merely stood there quietly, lost in his thoughts. He suddenly took something out of a pocket inside his robes and stared at the picture he had been holding on to after the incident. With a sigh, he lifted his head to take a glance towards the sky.

The sun was setting now, its rays penetrating through the glass windows. Sooner or later, he knew he would have to face her, but having to do so because of a spell that bound him? He never would've expected it. Slowly, he closed his eyes as he put the picture near his heart. A small smile tugged his lips when he realized what Kingsley had just done.

"Thank you."

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**Author's Notes: **Thoughts? :)


	2. Chapter 1: Who Are You?

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Hello everyone! Yeah, an update! lol. Thank you so much for the positive feedbacks I received from the last chapter and for all the story alerts/faves. :)

Special thanks to my awesome friend and BETAs, **anitablakefan2007 **and **Rutoh-Chan** for helping me bring this story to life! Thank you so much for all the hard work!

* * *

******CHAPTER 1 – Who Are _You_?**

_All I want is to keep you safe from the cold..._

_to give you all that your heart needs the most. _**  
**

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

Snow. Everywhere they went, there was only never-ending snow, she thought. She was shivering even with all the layers of clothes; the cold wind still bit her as she trudged to keep her pace with another cloaked figure. With a sigh, she wiped away the snow that melted on her face, blurring her vision. It was cold, so very cold in fact that she was starting to question why she agreed to this ridiculous notion in the first place.

"Are you _really_ all right?" Her companion asked when he saw her struggling. She didn't know how long they'd been walking but judging from the darkness that had started to creep in, it had been hours. He never heard a complaint from her, even if she was already tired.

She looked up to meet his gaze and saw that he also looked worn. "Why do you often ask that, Harry?" she questioned, annoyed, finally recalling the reason why they were struggling in this cold. "I thought you said that this is a precaution so that they won't be able to track us! I may have lost my memory, but I haven't turned completely helpless! _Honestly!_"

The man stopped and offered her a stiff but nonetheless warm smile. She thought she caught sadness in the depth of his eyes, but it vanished quickly and was replaced by what she called the loathsome f_açade_. "All right. Er – sorry."

The silence continued once more, save for the crunching sound of the snow as their boots made contact with it. Sometimes, they would hear a wolf howl in a distance, but on most occasions they only moved forward, relying on Harry's _Lumos_ for light. She had once asked how he was able to do this with only a stick, but he only chuckled as he told her that she, as the brightest witch of her age, could do spells more complex than this, only months ago.

Months ago. She still could not remember what had transpired back then. During the past few days, she remembered bits and pieces about her life before the incident; it wasn't much, but it was a start. Even if none of them really made sense, it was quite a relief to her considering she could barely remember her name during the first day of her 'poisoning'.

That was what that red-headed man called Ron explained to her. A vial of some sort of potion had been found near her unconscious body and it was believed to be the cause of her current _condition_. They didn't know where this potion came from, but Harry said it had been taken to St. Mungo's for further study. Somehow, she was a bit relieved that the place was vaguely familiar in her mind.

The duration of the potion's effects was still unknown and Ron only told her that the reason why she was poisoned was because she was a very important figure. Yet, with all this information, only one thing was clear: she had to get away. A man named Kingsley told her about their plan. She had to hide until she regained all of her memories, until the people who caused her harm were apprehended.

Somehow, her instincts told her that it was all right to believe in what they told her. Yet, was it really? Could she really place her trust in the people who claim to know her when she barely knew herself? They seemed kind and… logical enough. That odd woman, Luna, had warm eyes; dreamy, but warm. She often said the most peculiar things, but she offered them with an equally warm smile. Surely she wouldn't be wicked enough to betray her after showing her that… kindness, would she? And there was that red-headed boy, Ron; he was the first face she had recognized, she knew she could place her trust in him, even though he sometimes got on her nerves. And there was his sister, Ginny. She had that fiery personality, but she seemed to be genuinely concerned about her. Well, everyone she met was concerned about her well-being, actually. And there was him… Harry.

He was quite odd, really. He had this scar shaped like a lightning bolt on his forehead, and he always wore a scowl on his face. The few times the scowl wasn't present, he still hardly smiled. He always made sure she was safe and comfortable though, barely giving himself attention for her sake. Somehow, she _did_ feel that way while she was with him. He was strong and reliable, and in her eyes, it seemed like nothing could faze him. Yet… he didn't have the warmth she was looking for, the same warmth that Ron and the others had shown her. His eyes were always distant…cold like this accursed weather.

She watched as the man called Harry observed their surroundings, pointing his stick to illuminate their path. He had this determined look on his face and he concealed all his emotions behind a mask. It was as if the cold didn't bother him a bit, he only shrugged it off every time she was the one who asked. He was always alert, as though danger might present itself anytime. She knew they were on the run and she could feel a tingling sensation that someone was following them but why must he always seem so tense and… distant?

But something was off. The tingling sensation grew stronger and Harry barely heard her strangled cry as a spell almost hit her. Jets of light flew towards their direction and they could feel the shadows lurking everywhere. Three other spells flew past them but Harry hurtled them towards a bush and hid her there. Soon, she could see him firing his own jets of light with that stick of his and heard an enemy cry in pain.

She felt her heart beating wildly in her chest. One by one, the jets of light that were sent in their direction vanished and when all she saw was the light in Harry's _stick_, she decided to follow him. He went around and examined the two bodies that were lying on the snow. His face was passive as he muttered spells and flicked his wand. She wanted to ask what he was doing, but refrained from doing so when she heard them breathing.

When he was finished, he sighed heavily and removed his glasses. For the first time, she was able to see the blood trickling down his face. In one swift motion, she observed how he flicked his wand and muttered _Oculus Reparo_ while pointing it on his glasses. It was during that moment that her head seared as she heard distant voices in her mind.

_Harry Potter… the boy who lived._

_Friendship and bravery._

_I'll go with you._

_Harry… Harry… _

"Hermione!"

She opened her eyes, her breathing erratic after what had transpired. Before she knew it, she fell ungracefully in the snow, shivering while she wiped the tears from her eyes. In an instant, Harry had taken her into his arms, holding her close and looking at her with a very worried expression.

"Hermione, are you okay? Are you hurt?" he said, examining her closely.

"Stop!" she shouted angrily at him as she backed off, looking at him with guarded eyes.

"Calm down, please, calm down."

"Who – who are you?"

Harry froze as he looked at her, hurt. He didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say to make her believe that he would never harm her. And the question she asked was like a blow to his heart, he didn't even know where to begin answering.

"Hermione –"

"Your name is Harry James Potter, but who _exactly_ are you and what is your relation to me?" Everything around her was starting to get hazy and voices swam inside her head. She couldn't see him clearly and she felt as though any moment now, she might fall unconscious. She drew the stick Ron gave her before they parted, something he told her she could use to defend herself.

"Don't come any closer, or you'll end up like them, I swear it," she said, pointing at the bodies.

"Hermione!" he unthinkingly stepped forward and Hermione, once she realized what he was about to do, jabbed the wand at him, releasing a ball of light. He didn't try to avoid it and used his hand to defend himself from the blow. When it was gone, she could see the puddle of blood that tainted the white snow.

Strong hands wrapped themselves around her, soothing her back. "It's all right…it's all right. I'm not going to hurt you. It's all right, you're okay."

She could barely hear Harry's words as the voices in her head intensified. Why? Why did it have to be like this? Her head hurt, and she kept hearing her own voice talking inside her mind. _Harry… James… Potter…_

_Of course I trust you, Harry._

_… __you're my best friend._

"Harry… Potter…" she mumbled as she weakly let go of the wand in her hand. Soon, her knees gave out and she slumped into him.

There were more images, raising her hand as a professor asked a question. A man – her… father, hugging her before she climbed aboard a train… Two figures waving at her, one was Ron and the other one was…

"Hermione!"

"Har – ry," she whispered as she tentatively touched his face. Why did he always look so… sad? And why, why did she make her feel so… safe?

But she could only look at Harry's emerald eyes before the darkness enveloped her.

* * *

It was dark when she woke up. She tried to feel around and realized that she was lying on some sort of fabric, it was dry and comfortable. She started to stir and sure enough, there was no snow and it was warm. When she rose to a sitting position, a cool damp cloth slipped away from her forehead and onto the ground.

"You're awake," the voice surprised her that she nearly jumped from her seat. It sounded tired, but relieved and when she craned her neck, Harry's face came to view as he knelt down in front of her, touching her forehead.

"Where are we?" she asked.

Harry gave her a small smile. He withdrew his hand to give her something to drink and she suddenly longed for its warmth. "In a cave near the forest in Cornwall," he replied, "Are you feeling well?"

She could only nod and grab her blanket closer to her, only to realize that it was Harry's cloak.

He looked very exhausted and there were dark circles underneath his eyes. She observed how his jaw clenched as he tried to find words. For a brief moment, his attempts were futile and he could only sigh but finally, he looked at her seriously. "I – to tell you the truth, I – it's hard for me to say this and – I don't know what to tell you so that you can trust me but I'm not going to hurt you," he said solemnly.

"I – I'm sorry," she said. For a brief moment, Harry's eyes were hopeful and relieved that she could only smile at the gesture. "I didn't want to cause you trouble. Ron trusts you and l did too in the past, right?"

He could only nod. He was somehow relieved at her words and the fact that she remembered Ron. Yet at the same time, he felt strange and disappointed that it was not him she remembered; he felt… betrayed.

Silence followed the two of them as they retreated into their own thoughts. The only sound that could be heard was the water that dripped inside the cave. Everything was so still, except for the rise and fall of their chests. Harry felt lost, he didn't know how to act around her anymore. This, he realized, was something that was hard for him to do and for the first time, he didn't know if he could do it alone.

Finally, when the silence seemed too thick for her to bear, Hermione cleared her throat and looked at him with solemn eyes. "You carried me here?" she asked.

He nodded timidly. He wanted to tell her that he Apparated them in some place he knew, but he realized she wouldn't understand.

Hermione, upon realizing the trouble she has caused, felt a pang of guilt in her chest. "I'm sorry for being such a bother."

"It was nothing," he said, scratching the back of his head as he tried to smile, "I would do it again, if it would keep you safe."

An awkward silence lasted between them for a while until Harry stood up, telling her that he would get her something to eat. Yet as he rose, she took hold of his hands, forcing him to stay.

He winced slightly at her action and to her horror, she saw the bloodstained cloth that was wrapped around the hand she held. In one abrupt motion, she let go and Harry, surprised at her reaction, kneeled down beside her once more as he realized the cause of her dilemma.

He tried to offer a kind smile and brushed the stray locks away from her face. "This is nothing to worry about, Hermione."

"Sit down."

"What?"

"I said sit down, now!" Harry wasn't sure if he should be a bit relieved to hear her bossy voice once more but complied, nonetheless.

She knew she was the one who caused this, though she could only vaguely remember how. She held his injured hand and quickly dabbed some clean cloths in the glass of water he gave her. Then, she started cleaning his wound.

Harry wanted to stop her but seeing her biting her lower lip in concentration, he couldn't help but smile and let her have her way. He remembered fully how Hermione worked hard once she set her mind into something, and knowing that it still didn't change gave him hope.

Soon, when she was satisfied at her handy work, she ripped a part of her cloak and wrapped it around his injured hand. Harry twisted and turned it, checking if it were comfortable enough and gave her a grateful nod. "Thanks."

She gave him a warm smile, pleased at what she was able to do. Without letting go of his hand, she said, "I hope it will heal in no time."

Harry chuckled at her cheery voice, which was very Hermione-ish. "It will. Thank you."

"I promise I'm not going to hold that stick again until I know how to use it. What is it called again?"

"… a wand."

"Oh, well, er – you'll teach me how to use it, won't you?"

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**Author's Notes: **Thoughts? Opinions? Review! It will help me improve. :)


	3. Chapter 2: Charades

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Hello everyone! Here's another one! I've been consistently updating per week now, and I hope it will go that way. :) For all of your questions... an answer will be received as the story goes on. I want to reply on your reviews but I guess I'll do it tomorrow or when I have time. Thank you so much for all the support! And the wonderful reviews, they give me an idea, so I hope you'll keep on sending me your love through them! :)

Special thanks to my awesome friend and BETAs, **anitablakefan2007 **and **Rutoh-Chan** for helping me bring this story to life! Thank you so much for all the hard work!

* * *

**CHAPTER 2 – Charades**

_And there you stand open heart - open doors_

_Full of life with the world that's wanting more_

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

Hermione watched Harry as he stood nearby the cave entrance, patting a large creature with the head of an eagle. He seemed to be content as he fed it and the creature looked as happy as it could be. She tried to move closer, but the creature noticed her and took a step back, its eyes fixed on her.

Harry noticed the change in the creature's behavior and shifted his head to give her a smile. "Morning," he greeted as he patted its head. "I saw this big guy wandering around a while ago."

"What is it, exactly?"

"A hippogriff," he said cheerily as he continued to feed it. "Hagrid takes care of a herd of these."

"Oh, I see," she said as she tentatively took a step forward. Harry noticed her curiosity and took note of the sudden change in her eyes. It was the same look she gave when finishing a rather complicated homework assignment or when she wanted to learn something new. Intuitively, he just knew what to do. "Would you like to pet it?"

Hermione silently nodded as she looked at the hippogriff. The gesture made Harry smirk as he patted the creature's head. "First, you have to walk towards him and bow. Always maintain eye contact with him though, because he is a very proud creature."

For a moment, time seemed to have stopped as she did what she was told, barely even gasping when she saw it looking directly at her. To her surprise, it bent its front knees and bowed.

Harry was delighted at the result of their exchange and turned towards her with a great big smile on his face. "Right, er – now, you can go pat his head or something."

Hermione moved slowly towards the hippogriff and patted its back. The creature grazed her cheek with its beak gently and she felt herself grinning at her accomplishment. She continued to stroke its thick gray feathers, as if in a trance. "When we were at this school, Hogwarts, I had the chance to ride on a hippogriff once," she said hesitantly, "I think its name was… Buckbeak."

Harry was a bit surprised at the sudden revelation but he beamed as he remembered that part of their lives. "He was special to you in many ways. You once fed him dead ferrets, when we were inside the Forbidden Forest."

"Forbidden… Forest. Yes, you're right," she exclaimed, "Were you with me then too? I remember being with someone, but I couldn't remember who."

Harry chuckled, as he remembered how young they were back then. It was a time when most of their concerns were regarding school and the escaped prisoner of Azkaban. She had taken extra classes with her time turner and, while she was always busy, she never missed the opportunity to spend time with them and bicker with Ron. She was always there to help him during dire situations and even risked her own life to save his godfather. Looking back, he couldn't remember a time when they weren't together during their adventures.

"Well, let's just say that you… were always there to help me clean up my mess."

Hearing those words from him was quite odd and yet she couldn't help but grin. Although she could barely remember him, she thought that somehow, Harry would never admit such a thing to anyone else. "What happened to Buckbeak? I can't remember anything else besides that time."

Harry was quiet for a while as his smile vanished, replaced with a bitter one. He was suddenly back in the war. For a moment, he could only hear the shouts of the people, of the house elves' battle cry, and the sound of wings as they beat through the sky. It was the last he saw of Buckbeak. He knew he had survived. Hagrid always spoke of him when he visited, but the others…both humans and creatures alike, who took part in that war had not been so fortunate… and he knew she wouldn't be able to grasp it all easily, even he couldn't after all this time.

"Well, he's back in Hagrid's care… with some of his kind." He told her, silently wishing that it would be enough.

She nodded and laid her cheek on the gentle creature's feathers, sensing Harry's need to return to silence. "That's good at least… I'm glad I was able to remember these little things."

Harry nodded as he donned his traveling cloak once more, handing her a spare. "Well, if you are ready, we can roam around the nearest village and check if they have a spare room for us to stay. It's quite a long walk from here."

Hermione gave the beast a final pat on the head before they took off. Both of them kept quiet for the remainder of the journey, lost in their own thoughts as they preferred the comfortable silence. It was when she saw the village's silhouette that she finally decided to speak.

"During that time… we went on adventures, like we always did every year during our stay at this, Hogwarts… we – we were always together, weren't we?"

"Er – yes."

"And you and Ron were always there with me…"

"Well, yeah."

"Then why…"

"Why?" Harry repeated the question, not fully knowing what was being asked in the first place.

"Why do you always seem uncomfortable whenever you're around me?"

"Er…" Truth be told, the question was unexpected, but he thought he should give Hermione credit for noticing his distance. All of the things she said and remembered were a part of them that was always there, unquestioned. But something had changed these past few years, he knew, though he didn't know what it was yet. "I – I think you're just imagining it, Hermione…"

She could only sigh at his response, for deep inside, she knew that Harry did not used to act like this around her. And even though she couldn't remember, she could feel it. "Ron and the others always joke around and tell me things. But you seem to be a bit… off."

"Off?"

"You're more distant and you always seem to prefer watching quietly in a corner, really. It doesn't seem like something you usually do."

Now he really did not know how to answer her question. In fact, it never occurred to him that she would feel this way, even if he considered the… circumstances. After all, the Hermione he knew, even when she was against it, respected his silence. And after all that happened, he always depended on her understanding, for no one else knew how it affected him the most. What they shared before the war and afterwards, the carefree moments and the normalcy, were all but fleeting memories. Yet she was always there, she had always understood his silence, but now…

"I – I'm sorry, Hermione… I should've known."

"Known what?"

"I should've been more considerate to you. I'm sorry, really. I've been a right git."

She was quiet for so long that Harry did not know what to do, or what he should say. She just stared at him, her chocolate eyes full of questions. It surprised Harry how much he could still read in them. He was about to utter another apology and say that he didn't mean it when she suddenly laughed. Shrugging to himself, he joined in her laughter as they continued on their journey.

Soon, they started to see the buildings more closely and they knew that they were not far now. They stopped at another part of the forest near the village for precaution, and to allow themselves the luxury of rest. Harry busied himself securing their belongings as Hermione rested against a tree. When he finished, he looked up to see her staring intently at her wand, with the focused look on her face. Hesitantly, he went beside her and took his own wand out of his pockets.

"Do you want to know more about magic?"

She nodded but did not face him, her gaze solely on the wand in her hand. "I can't understand how I forgot something so… important."

He took her hand and squeezed it, to give some kind of reassurance that she would eventually remember. "I know it is hard, Hermione, but we'll figure this out… together," he said, offering a kind smile.

Then, he started discussing the basics of magic; how a spell works, what incantations to say and the associated wand movements that could trigger a certain spell. He let her try _Wyngardium Leviosa_ first, and smiled when he saw the sheer delight on her face as she managed to levitate a small rock.

Soon the sun began to set and darkness covered the land. One by one, the houses were illuminated and the murmured voices inside the lively town vanished. Still, the two were immersed in their task. Harry was comforted by the fact that Hermione's thirst to learn never disappeared. Once they finished, Harry took out a book from his duffel bag and handed it to her. She examined it closely, and was a bit surprised that Harry carried it around. "Er – this book meant so much to you, so I thought you'd appreciate reading it again sometime," he said, scratching the back of his head.

_Hogwarts, a History_. She gave him a thankful smile and lifted the cover of the book, admiring the musty smell that made her feel nostalgic. She noticed that it was well-kept, with no folded pages or writings as she browsed through the book. It made her want to start reading right now, if it weren't for the fact that they were still on the run and they didn't have a place to stay. She saw Harry stand up and flick his wand to hide the scar on his forehead, and an idea suddenly came into her mind.

"Harry, I have an idea," she started, standing up from her seat.

"What idea?"

She started pacing idly, biting her lower lip as she crossed her hands over her chest. "What if we… pretend to be someone else? I mean, we are on the run. Wouldn't that be better?"

"W – what?"

"Charades, Harry," She walked away from him and sat on the tree stump once more. Ron and the others kept on telling her about her achievements, her strength and her wisdom but even now, she felt so weak and useless. "I know I can't remember much about my past… and I think it is better if no one knows who we are. So I thought that, maybe we can pretend."

That had been their initial plan. Harry and the others thought about it long before they departed, but they never did follow through with it because there were many things they had to consider. At first they thought of spells and potions that would change their appearance, they even toyed with the idea of traveling by magical ways, but no one was sure how it would affect her in her condition. So they thought of traveling by muggle way, until they were out of London. Then, they would walk until they reached the forest near the village of Rippleshack, so that they could obscure their tracks from pursuers. They didn't know how Hermione would react in the matter, but in her condition, this had been their best bet.

They had been a bit surprised when they also found out Hermione didn't remember anything about magic, even when it was an integral part of her being. Not only had she forgotten all her memories of them, she had also forgotten the various places she had visited and even the names of her parents! In the end, they had agreed that it would be better if Hermione found out about magic slowly, rather than just dumping the idea into her mind and risk losing her trust. So they started telling her about magic little by little, starting from the fact that it existed.

"What do you think, Harry?" Hermione said, shifting her feet.

He looked at her bright, hopeful eyes and could not help but nod at her plan. Well, it was no doubt this would come sooner or later, after all, she was the brightest witch of her age and she did not plan their survival during the war for naught. "All right, Hermione."

"Wait," she said, biting her lip when she realized she missed something, "We have to think of new names for us."

"Er – do you have a name in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking of some sort of a feminine name. Hmmm, what about Daisy or Iris? Or maybe I could use Laurel?"

Harry suddenly realized the common theme of the names she just suggested. They somehow… did not fit Hermione, but he couldn't help but remember a person who resembled her in many ways.

"What about…Lily? Or maybe you could use Liliane?" he suggested, noting how quickly her face brightened up at his initiation.

"Lily… it's quite familiar to me… I think I heard it before."

Harry sighed. Although he suggested it, he wasn't quite sure if he would like to explain to Hermione everything that was associated with the name. Instead, he contented himself in finding a pleasing explanation why he picked it. "It means faith and devotion. She was also the brightest witch of her age during her time in Hogwarts. The name will suite you well."

"Oh." Somehow, she thought that there was more personal meaning behind it that she didn't grasp, but seeing the look of sadness in his eyes, she didn't press the matter further. Pushing all her thoughts away, she turned to Harry and gave a small smile, "Lily it is then and I think I would like to add the surname Foye. So, have you thought of yours?"

"Me?"

"Yes, I suppose it would be better if you also have one, wouldn't it?" she said, pacing again. "Let's see, your real name is Harry James, right?"

"Er – yes."

"Do you often use the name James? I only heard people calling you Harry, but I don't think I heard someone calling you by that name yet."

He couldn't help but smile then, that it was the name she picked for him. And he realized that even though Hermione couldn't remember the meaning behind those names, he thought that maybe her heart did. A warm feeling crept into his own heart as he realized that these names meant a lot to them, not only to Harry but to Hermione as well.

"So then, as of now I am Lily," she said with triumph in her voice, "and you will be James. We could pretend to be siblings, but I'd rather not answer if they didn't ask. After all, we don't look like one."

Hermione was thankful that Harry nodded to her plan. She couldn't help but smile when he took her hand and squeezed it. It was rather comforting to know that he had this side of him that he rarely showed her and, perhaps, their new names would be the key for her to find out more about him. "I am Lily… I grew up in…"

"Ottery St. Catchpole, Devonshire," Harry supplied.

"Isn't that where the Weasley's live? Have you no imagination at all?" she mumbled as she gave him a glare.

"Well, what about Cokeworth then?"

"Oh all right," she sighed, "what do you think my work should be?"

"Maybe… a Healer, a wizarding equivalent to a muggle doctor," he chuckled. Before Hermione lost her memories, she worked for the Ministry, fighting for the rights of those oppressed. And many times, she succeeded and that led him to the decision that maybe, she would appreciate the change of career. When Harry turned to look at her, she gave him a grateful smile. "That will be great. I like that."

Without really realizing it, they were off again. They spent most of the time conversing as they went out of the forest. The darkness was heavy now, and soon, they knew they had to find a place to rest. By the time they reached the village, Hermione was able to make Harry talk more than a few sentences.

"So, what did the potions do?" Hermione asked attentively, too hooked up on one of Harry's misadventures during his time in Hogwarts.

Harry gave her a wide grin and looked at the moon as he reminisced about that particular time. "Well, there were seven of them and I couldn't exactly decipher one from the other," he said, embarrassed, "but there was this brilliant young girl who solved the riddle for me."

"Really now?" She said with a seriousness in her voice that made him chuckle.

"Yes. But there was only one potion that would allow them to move forward. So I entrusted the young girl to take care of Ron and to alert the Headmaster of what happened." Harry almost felt as if he was in the scene again. At that time, she said that friendship and bravery were more important. But without her brilliance, he doubted that the skinny-looking boy would've made it this far. "It sounded as if you caused a lot of trouble back then," she said, smirking, "so, did you succeed in getting this Sorcerer's Stone?"

"I did, but only because my friends helped me. Later, I found myself in the Hospital Wing and the Healer was very irritated about my state."

Hermione laughed heartily as she imagined a young boy with round glasses being scolded. "Well, I couldn't blame her, you know."

"Up until now, I always get chased by Healers because of my work," he sighed. "Look, we're finally here."

Sure enough, they were finally inside the small village. It was full of sand and they could feel the breeze of the wind in their faces and the smell of sea water. Birds squawked as they flew in the air and both of them could see the seashore from where they were standing. Harry had visited here only once, during a mission, but it was the first place he thought of when he was told of the plan for Hermione's safety.

He breathed in deeply and enjoyed the cool breeze. This was a peaceful town, very different from where they had come from. He thought they could stay here for a while, until they were ready to go back. Deep down though, he wished their adventure would take a long time before it reached its conclusion. He needed the break.

What he didn't know was that Hermione felt the same way he did. She was mesmerized by the view, the image of the sea and the peacefulness of the town. She took in everything there was about it and looked at her companion when he asked, "Are you ready to go?"

She nodded and smiled brightly at him, taking his hand. This was the beginning of a new life… and hopefully, it would be a beautiful experience… for both of them.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Thoughts? Opinions? Review! :)


	4. Chapter 3: A Talent for Trouble

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Hello everyone! And another! Yes, I've been consistent with the updates, and hopefully, it will continue like this. I am very happy that you like how the story is progressing and I thank you for all those people who took a time to review/fave/story alert. Keep on sending me your opinions. :)

Special thanks to my awesome friend and BETAs, **anitablakefan2007 **and ******Rutoh-Chan** for helping me bring this story to life! Thank you so much for all the hard work!

* * *

**Chapter 3 – A Talent for Trouble**

_The future haunts with memories that I could never have_

_And hope is just a stranger wondering how it got so bad_

_**- **__Trading Yesterday_

* * *

As the two of them looked around the village that night, Hermione couldn't help but be happy as she imagined the trip as more of a vacation than a hasty escape. Seeing the clear blue water shine as the moon coated it with light quickly made her think about changing into some comfortable clothes, to just frolic and swim around, as children and their families normally did.

She started to picture it in her head, imagining some children running into the waters, splashing and screaming with glee. Their parents would stand and watch… maybe even join the children in the water. There would be no foolish wand waving and spell casting, no hideous cloaks and cold snow. Then she started to wonder, did she ever take a trip by the sea when she was younger? What did her parents look like? Did they take her to a place like this?

She found herself moving closer to the water as if it called to her. Her body told her what it would feel like if she were to go in the water, cool and wet when touched, salty to taste… yet, the scene inside her head was vague. She simply couldn't remember the memory that actually took place, _if_ it truly took place. She wondered what it would've felt like.

Harry glanced at her after talking to a villager and noticed the small smile and the faint glow in her eyes. He didn't know if it was a good thing to see her like that, oblivious and wondering, but he let it go. He was tired from all the traveling and his arms were a little sore from too much use. They spent a good part of the evening wandering around town asking if there was any place to stay. Now he was famished and he found himself swaying.

She was jarred from her thoughts once she bumped into her companion's shoulders. "Are you all right?" she suddenly asked, concerned when she noticed the frown in his face.

"I'm fine," he said, looking around. When he was satisfied that the coast was clear, he gave her a small smile, "Just a little tired."

She returned his smile and returned her gaze into the sea. "I like this place," she stated as she glanced at the water, "Are we going to stay here? Would it be really alright with you?"

Harry looked at her hopeful eyes and for the first time since the incident, he felt at peace. It was one of those rare moments that he felt that she acted like her age. Hermione had always dedicated herself working for the benefit of the Ministry and like her, he also found himself drowning in his career as an Auror. The war and the tribulations in their lives almost turned them into steel, as if they were some old folks who had already _lived_. Yet, seeing this sight, seeing her look so young and unscarred, made him feel young again himself.

"This village is far enough from the Ministry. There are a fair number of wizards and witches living here, but I guess they are too far away from all the commotions to even care. I guess we can afford to take the risk."

"Brilliant," she looked down and Harry noticed the peaceful glint in her eyes again. "This place calms me… Somehow I feel free…"

"Free?" he asked, giving his full attention to her. She started walking around, urging Harry to do the same. They started to walk near the shore as the cool breeze swept past their faces. It was such a relaxing activity, if not for the fact that he was interested in knowing Hermione's answer.

"This place," she started, her eyes in a trance, "it feels very different from the Burrow, or any place I've forgotten for that matter. Somehow… I feel like I've been suffocated by the norms of my work… I don't know why I feel this way… The past…" she stopped as blurred images emerged in her head. A woman with bushy hair sitting on her office concentrating on her… work? She closed her eyes and suddenly felt her heart thumping madly. That woman, she looked stressed and busy, as if her life was confined to the four walls of the office. It made a very strong impact on her. Her knees buckled and she found herself falling – only to be caught by a pair of strong arms as Harry supported her back to her feet.

It felt very familiar. The scene – although blurred, was something which she thought was a part of her, and she remembered something else – it was a moment when a familiar presence – a man, suddenly appeared behind her. As she looked up to the man, there was that lop-sided grin on his face while he put a plastic of food on her table, all the while asking her why she was working late again.

"L – Lily?" Harry's worried voice suddenly brought her back to the present. Lily… that's right… she was Lily now.

"I'm sorry. I didn't – I, have I always been this clumsy?" she sighed heavily and tried to get out of Harry's grasp as she placed her hand on her forehead, "I – I can't seem to do anything right!"

"Don't push yourself too hard," Harry said, as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "You'll remember everything, eventually. For now, I think you need rest."

"You're right," she nodded.

Harry fell silent. It was difficult enough as it was… especially when he knew that she couldn't remember. He knew he had to be strong for now, she needed him. He shook his head and offered a kind smile. "Let's go."

He walked slightly in front of her and tried to concentrate on the signs of the buildings, but his mind continually drifted back to what Hermione had said. Freedom, she longed for it… like he had. Was it right to tell her not to give too much effort on recovering her memories so that she could begin anew, even when he knew the effects weren't going to last? Or must he be an instrument to help her remember? He found himself lost in the predicament; to let her begin anew would be like shielding her from the past pain and tragedies of her life… even if it was only for a while, yet it would also mean that she would always have that gaping hole in her heart. To help her remember would mean making her strong enough to face the life she knew, a life he now realized was not as lovely as he had thought it to be.

What would _Hermione_ do if she was in his position? _Research in the library_, he thought as he rolled his eyes. He found himself lost in a vast sea of decisions. He missed her. He missed talking to her, missed their shared silences. Regrets poured down his heart, for because of this incident, he realized how he depended on her, even after all these years.

He didn't know why he felt that they had drifted apart during these six years. Maybe it was because they went their separate ways, he and Ron taking the Auror Training Program while she returned to Hogwarts to finish her schooling. And even though they still got together, it never was the same as when they were at Hogwarts… nothing was, really.

With a sigh, he turned towards her and realized that they had been through so much. Here was a girl who deserved to be happy, a girl who had been through so much pain. "All I want is for you to be…happy," he unconsciously whispered out loud.

"Be… happy?"

It was only then that he became fully aware of his slip. He felt as though he had gotten cornered by the question. "Er – I know this must have been hard on you. And I'm just, er – relieved that you are smiling loads today, that's all," he said, thankful that Hermione couldn't see his panicked face.

"Thanks… James," she replied as she looked up to see nothing but his stiff stance. He gave her another one of his crooked smiles and she realized that he was back in his shell once more. She couldn't help but smile at his sudden revelation though, because now she knew that he cared more than he let on.

She wanted to start an interesting conversation with him, but before she could think of something, he stopped. Her eyes squinted when a bright light passed them by and realized that they had stopped by a tavern. She could hear the muttered conversations and howls of laughter inside.

Hermione soon found herself holding unto Harry's shoulder. She was a bit anxious, although she didn't know why. Harry seemed to have sensed it and said nothing as he opened the door.

The exchange of looks by the two piqued the curiosity of a wizard standing near the counter and he simply couldn't ignore them, for he realized they were new to this place. "Say… are you two travelers?" The two noticed the blonde wizard eyeing them as he stood near the counter. He had a thick scar above his left eye running down to his cheek. "Yes, well, it's actually the first time we've been here," Hermione nervously replied.

"Is that so?" the wizard said with a smirk, his hand under his chin, "Are you two on a vacation, perhaps?"

"Well, we are thinking about staying…" she said as she looked tentatively at Harry, "maybe for a month or two."

"Brilliant!" he said merrily. "Many of the folks here had moved away because they're getting tired of the lifestyle and some visitors just pass through, sodding fools if you'd ask me. They don't realize the beauty of the place!"

"Er – what do you mean?"

"This magical town kept itself well-hidden from the rest of society for years now! People who lived here were either outcasts or people who didn't like to meddle with the affairs of magical Britain," he mused bitterly.

"Oh," Hermione said, at a loss for words.

He slapped his hand on her shoulder and guffawed, "Never mind that. Welcome to Rippleshack, dear travelers and I hope you'll be delighted to stay in our home!"

"Thank you, sir," she said, smiling at the kind fellow. Harry was a bit apprehensive at the man's behavior, but nodded, nonetheless.

"Excuse me, but are you perhaps Mr. Romulus Tamer?"

"Yes, yes. Why do you know me?"

"I was told by a villager that you are the manager of the tavern. I think his name was Odin."

"I see."

"Oh, so you are the man that kind villager told us about," Hermione said happily. "I am Lily, and this here is James."

"It's nice to meet you, Lily and James," he exclaimed, giving out a hearty laugh, "So, I suppose you need help in finding a place to stay."

Harry nodded. "A friend of ours stayed here at one point while he was on vacation. He told us that there are cabins here we could rent."

The man, Romulus, sighed and looked at Harry with a serious expression on his face. "Well, I wish I can help you, but right now, Callum is missing and he is the only one who knows of a spare cottage you can use."

"What do you mean?"

"It's hard to explain, you see. This place is also home to people who are shunned by the magical society because it has been isolated since the first war. Well, Callum was tasked by the village chief to accompany those folks to the forest so they won't harm anyone when they transform into werewolves."

"Would it be possible for us to find him?"

"Don't get too offended mate, but Callum is an ex-Auror and his only mission was tobring them inside the forest, but still he hasn't returned from the ordeal. I don't think you'll return with both of your limbs intact if you go out during a full moon."

"You're wrong there, Romulus," Hermione started as she pushed Harry aside, "James is a very strong Auror and I've no doubt in my mind that he can, and he _will!_"

Harry instinctively pulled her back behind him before he turned to the wizard, "Look, all we have to do is find Callum, correct?"

"…Yes."

"Right then, we'll find him and bring him back."

Romulus sighed, defeated. "All right, do whatever you want. But don't say I didn't warn you."

He pulled out his wand from his back pocket and conjured a parchment and a quill. Both Harry and Hermione watched as he drew some kind of map in the parchment, his face scrunched up in concentration as he tried to remember the little details that would be of use in their quest. "Here's the map of the forest where we escort our friends," he said, handing the rolled parchment to Harry, "I'm sorry that this is all I can do, I've been tasked by him to watch over the tavern while he's gone."

Harry gave him a thankful nod and started to walk away when Romulus followed him.

"Are you really sure you want to find Callum? He is highly respected and strongest person here and if he had difficulty this time, we don't know if you're going to make it out of there alive. We can find other options too, if you want. And what about Lily? Do you really want her to get killed?"

Hermione suddenly grabbed Harry's arm and glared at him when he turned to look at her, "Don't even think about leaving me here."

Harry gulped. He knew that when Hermione Granger made her decision, she should get what she wanted, or else there might be trouble in the end. With a sigh, he nodded at her and turned back to Romulus. "We'll be careful. I want to find this Callum and bring him home safely. And don't worry, I will definitely protect Lily with my life."

He stopped in his tracks when a witch from one of the tables called him back. She gave him a silver dagger and smiled. "This weapon is one of the rare antiques in this village. It has the ability to weaken werewolves. I'll give it to you for fifty galleons."

Harry examined the dagger. It was rather short and had engravings he couldn't decipher. It glinted in the light and he could sense some sort of enchantment surrounding the blade. He moved a few feet away and rummaged through his duffel bag.

"You're one lucky girl to have someone like him," the witch told Hermione as she looked at Harry dreamily from the distance.

"I'm sorry, what do you mean?"

"He's willing to protect you with his life. And trust me, even during this peaceful time, the blokes out there would rather save their hides. Not only that, he's willing to save our Callum even when he knew the dangers that lie ahead!"

Hermione thanked the witch and got lost in her thoughts by the time Harry was back on her side and handed the money to the woman. "Thank you for this, ma'am."

"Oh it's not a problem, my dear," she replied, "Be careful and come back here safely."

Both of them smiled at the witch and soon, they were off.

As they walked away from the sandy shore and into the forest, Hermione couldn't decipher the feeling that had been lingering in her mind ever since the witch talked to her. Somehow, she found the strangest sensation that something _similar_ happened to her back in the past, but she didn't know what it was. Thirty minutes into the forest, they had already covered quite a distance and were deep inside the forest but Hermione's mind was still restless. Why did it feel like Harry had the strangest ability to get into trouble?

"_… don't you think you've got a bit of a — a — saving people thing?"_

_"Hermione, if you think I was going to sit here and let her pretend —"_

_"I get it, you chose him."_

The familiar voices came back to her head and she felt herself getting weaker by the second. They were inside the forest now and it felt as if she was lost and alone. She trudged across the ground as she touched her aching head. She remembered that lanky figure and his red hair, but couldn't remember why he was in this particular memory. He told her…

"Lily?" Harry said, stopping in his tracks when he noticed her crouched down. He noticed how pale she was and dropped the dagger in panic as he took her in his arms. "Where does it hurt?"

He mentally berated himself for being foolish. He should've left her in the tavern, instead of letting her follow him here. It was his fault – he should've realized that this was _not_ the Hermione who was stubborn enough to go with him, even if he didn't want her to. He shouldn't have let her come here in her condition!

"He told me… he told me that I chose you, at that time," she mumbled, as if in a trance. Harry could do nothing but pull her closer so that he could support her weakened form. He quickly waved his wand and disillusioned them. Something was wrong… very wrong. She had been fine moments ago, while he pondered on what he had to do. And now… and now…

Her words started to become incoherent and to his dismay, he found out that she was slowly losing consciousness. He placed his arms under her knees, intent on going back to the tavern, but her hands found her way to his cheeks that he had no choice but to stop and listen to her.

"But he didn't know… how much it hurt… when h – he left," she whispered, as she laid her head on the crook of his neck.

He never got the chance to ask her what she was talking about because it was too late… a werewolf had finally appeared.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Thoughts? Opinions? :)


	5. Chapter 4: Devotion

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Hello everyone! Sorry for the late uupdate, I've been very busy with life - my attention was needed in school so I forgot to update sooner. Thank you for all those people who took a time to review/fave/story alert. Keep on sending me your opinions. :)

Special thanks to my awesome friend and BETAs, **anitablakefan2007** and **Rutoh-Chan **for helping me bring this story to life! Thank you so much for all the hard work!

* * *

**Chapter 4 ****– Devotion**

_May I hold you as you fall to sleep. _

_When the world is closing in and you can't breathe._

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

Harry felt virtually stranded as the number of werewolves increased, blocking their path. He knew the werewolves could smell them, given their enhanced senses, but he realized that they were not moving. Their ears were pulled forward, razor sharp teeth bared and they looked hungry for blood. He had various encounters with werewolves during his time as an Auror, but never this many. He felt there was something strange about their behavior and realized suddenly that they were being led by an alpha.

He tried to wake Hermione up in a gentle manner and avoided eye contact with the wolves, so they would know he wanted to avoid a fight if they saw him. He didn't know what exactly happened to Hermione and why she was still unmoving in his arms. Cursing his luck, he took a step backward, toying with the idea of disapparatingback to the tavern. He took another step back and was cornered against a tree. Suddenly, a hand reached out and held onto the sleeve of his cloak.

"What in the bloody name of Merlin are you doing here, with a woman to boot?" the annoyed man said in between breaths. Harry craned his neck and saw the poorly disillusioned man struggling to stay on his feet. Blood tricked down his forehead and his left eyes was closed and covered with mud. "Are you travelers? What are you doing inside the forest at this time of the night?"

Harry was about to answer him, but one of the werewolves snarled at them, giving him no choice but to look at the creature in front of him. They were in some kind of formation now and he felt that one wrong move could trigger an attack. "Oh no, if this continues, they will find the village in no time."

"Are you all right?" Harry whispered.

"Yes, fell while trying to hide. I couldn't go back to the village until I knew that this lot was far away from it. I'll distract them, that'll give you a chance to escape. Apparate or something, just get out of here," the man said as he drew a dagger and a wand from his belt.

Harry wondered how he would fight in his condition – even if a wand could fire spells over long distances, you still needed time to cast the certain spells. As for the dagger, fighting in close combat seemed too dangerous – you need to have good reflexes and agility to dodge the predator, one of which clearly would be hard for him, given his state.

"Er – I don't think you'll be able to do that in your condition."

The man laughed tiredly, his expression pained but a grin still on his face. "Well mate, I said would buy you time to escape, but I didn't say I would escape myself."

Harry examined the man carefully. It looked as though they were the same age, but the man had this indifferent outlook on life. Harry admired his uncanny ability to keep calm under these circumstances, when his own heart kept beating wildly against his chest. But even if the man's proposal appealed to him, Harry knew he couldn't just let him die so he focused on the werewolves in front of him.

For a moment, he closed his eyes as he tried to steady his nerves. ''I've got another plan in mind," Harry urgently said, "I need you take care of her." He handed over the semi-conscious Hermione quickly before the other man had the chance to disagree. "She's in a, er – delicate condition right now. I don't know if it is alright to trust you but er – protect her and I'll make sure you two are safe."

He drew a deep breath and apparated to the rear of the enemies' flank, barely aware of Hermione opening her eyes. She didn't even hear the man's shout of protest at hearing Harry apparate as he held her in his arms. Her mind was too clouded, everything just seemed to be hazy.

Harry's attempt to lure the enemies away from the two of them worked as he hit the ground with a spell to injure the werewolf nearest to him. Even if he knew how dangerous they were, they were still humans. Several werewolves started to lunge at him at once, but his resolve didn't falter as he kept firing spell after spell towards them.

The injured man could barely see what was happening. After he brought Hermione down to rest in the tree trunk, he saw Harry getting hit by a werewolf's claw. But after that, another explosion made from a wand covered the area with a combination of dust and smoke. Soon, the only thing visible was the rainbow of spells casted and the sound of a wolf's wounded cry. Sometimes, a snarl rattled his senses that he had no choice but to move in front of the girl and ready his wand to protect her, but the snarl was either followed by another spell or the sound of Apparition. He could see nothing but darkness and he couldn't help but wonder what was happening.

When the sun re-emerged from the east, he was amazed when he saw that the area was completely empty. There were signs that a battle took place: claw marks in the ground, craters created by spells, and drops of red were visible from the distance. He briefly wondered if the werewolves were dead and if the man survived. Soon though, a silhouette staggered towards them and he couldn't hide the smile from his face.

Harry had not expected to last this long. He was breathing heavily, sweat and blood trickling down from his head and arms. He didn't know how he could still stand considering he couldn't feel his body or the pain from his wounds. He looked ahead and saw Hermione still hadn't regained consciousness. He shook his head in an effort to get rid of the sleep that was trying to overtake his mind and gripped his wand tighter. She was the reason he was able to last this long, it was his duty to protect her and now was not the time to fail or die. His determination helped him move forward. With every step he took, all he could think of was how close he was getting to them.

The man watched Harry in great awe. His shirt was covered with blood and his cloak was in tatters. As Harry moved closer towards them, he couldn't help but watch the woman resting behind the tree, completely oblivious to what was happening around her. For a moment, he thought it was better she didn't see what had transpired during the night.

Grateful that he had fulfilled his promise to protect her, the man took a moment to examine her features closely. He was disconcerted to find she did look as delicate as he said. Too delicate in fact, as she slept there… could she –

"Just a little bit more…" Harry told himself as he struggled to walk. When he made it, he landed ungracefully in front of the man. His breathing was heavy, but there was a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Are you all right? We need to get out of here, fast!" the man asked worriedly as he examined him.

"I'll live," Harry replied in between breaths. Now that it was over, he could feel pain in every nook and crevice of his body. But it didn't matter now, for he was more concerned about something else...someone else. "Is…she…all right?"

The man stood there, gaping like a fish but he tentatively looked behind him and saw the woman's still form. "She's fine. I think she fell on one of my traps, it lulls one into a deep sleep. Sorry."

"It was my fault," he said, visibly tired from all the excursions. He had not moved, even for a bit, but he could see the pain in his eyes. "I shouldn't have brought her here in the first place."

"Well mate, I think you shouldn't be hard on yourself. After all, you did protect us," the man reassured him when he realized that Harry was more worried about her.

Harry grunted in pain as he rose awkwardly to a sitting position. His mind was getting hazy, but he shook his head once more as the man offered his hand to pull him forward. "No bites?"

"None that I know of."

"Name's Callum, by the way. I wish we could've met under better circumstances."

"Same here," Harry replied, his voice shaking. He managed to walk a few steps and slumped his back to the tree where Hermione was sleeping. "My name is James, and she is… Lily."

"Pleasure to meet you both," Callum said with a grin. He took in the sight before him and wondered where his comrades were.

"If you're worried about them, I just gave them nasty headaches and some wounds. They'll eventually wake up."

"How did you, er –"

"I made sure they followed me and tried to avoid going near them but well, even Apparition has it limits," Harry answered, throwing the mystical dagger to him. It had been hard for him to retrieve, but he managed to, even with the extra danger involved.

Callum wanted to scold him for doing such a dangerous thing when he knew the woman's delicate condition, but when he watched Harry lean towards her and gingerly brush the stray locks of hair away from her face, he couldn't speak. Instead, he came up beside Harry and offered him a Pepper-Up Potion. "I can do nothing for those wounds, but at least I have this," he said, smiling.

Harry gratefully took a swig and was about to utter his thanks when Hermione finally stirred from her sleep. He anxiously hovered beside her and Callum got up to give the two of them some privacy.

Hermione's eyes felt heavy with sleep, as she struggled to stay awake. She couldn't see anything clearly, and different images kept flashing in her head. She recognized some people, yet others were just blurred pictures.

Harry held her in his arms, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Are you –"

"You mustn't die… You mustn't…" she stated softly yet frantically, her eyes a bit tearful. In her head, she saw the man in a room, unmoving… he – he was dying. She couldn't make out much of the image in her head, couldn't really see the face of the man. But she felt it in her heart and she couldn't bear it… if something were to happen to him.

Harry was confused by her words. He felt helpless as he shook her gently, trying to somehow soothe her with his words. "No one's going to die, it's all right –"

"No. I – I saw him in a – a hospital. He's dying, he's poisoned."

Hospital? Now he understood the reason for her despair. Before the encounter with the werewolves, she must've seen the time in the tent, when Ron left them on their own – her grief when everything was falling apart. And now, she must have been dreaming about the time in the hospital wing, but her memories didn't take her far enough. That time in the hospital wing… could it be?

"It's all right," he whispered, rubbing circles around her back to comfort her, "He's not dead. He's all right."

"A – are you sure?" she asked, closing her eyes when she was slightly blinded by the morning sun filtering through the trees.

"Yes, he's fine. You talked to him before we left, he even gave you your wand."

"Yes, you're right," she said softly, finally relaxing. She laid her head on the crook of his neck and soon, she fell asleep soothed by Harry's ministrations.

So it was really Ron, Harry thought as he tried to put the pieces together. As he came to this conclusion, he felt like he was being enveloped by some emotion he couldn't decipher. Here she was, comfortably resting in his arms while he was fully aware that she thought of Ron. It made him feel…

He shook his head. What she said did not matter now, because she seemed to have been half awake. She did not know what happened around her because she was… resting, oblivious to it all. He wondered if she would remember this when she was fully conscious. He wanted to wake her up, but her peaceful expression made him think otherwise. She may have been asleep during the past few hours, but with all the stress she had been through and all those dreams she kept having, he decided to let her linger in his arms longer.

"The trap you set, what does it do, exactly?" he shouted into the general direction he saw Callum go earlier.

"Er – well, it has a strong charm that makes you sleep. It's for the werewolves because I didn't expect someone to, er – come here. Still not sure what the side effects will be for humans though." Callum replied, walking back over to where they were.

Harry didn't reply as he tried to calm his own heart. He was grateful that this was the only penalty he received for bringing her here but it still did nothing to soothe his nerves. He moved slightly to lay her down, but she continued to cling to him. Callum, he suddenly realized, was now in front of him, for he covered her with his cloak as he crouched beside them. "This will keep her warm for awhile. Now, we have to go home and fix you up or else you'll bleed to death."

Harry nodded, silently thanking this stranger for all his efforts, too exhausted to properly answer. He felt drained and light-headed, something he attributed from the loss of blood. Everything around him was hazy and there was a… a dull ache in his chest. He couldn't place the exact feeling, but the last time he had them was when Ron asked Hermione if she was leaving with him. At that time, he thought that she would go with Ron… and he felt helpless as he listened to their exchange outside the tent. As the memories came back, he realized that the expression she wore when she found out that Ron was poisoned was no different from the time before he left them in that tent – pain.

The silence was awkward for Callum and when he finally saw how weak Harry looked, he stood up. "We should probably go to the village. I'll side-along Apparate you two."

"Thanks," he replied as he shook himself in an effort to clear his mind. Slowly, he gathered up his strength and stood up despite the pain, Hermione still in his arms. They reached the village a second later, feeling the effects of being squeezed through a tube and Callum could hear him breathing heavily. He was about to help him when …

"Callum?" Romulus asked as he saw the familiar face. "Cal, you're alive!" he exclaimed merrily.

"Hullo mate," Callum greeted and gave him a high five, "We'll talk later but right now, these travelers need our help," he said kindly as he moved to the side so that Harry and Hermione came into Romulus' view.

"James! Lily!" He exclaimed in surprise when he saw how bloodied Harry was as he carried the still unconscious woman in his arms.

"Er – you know them, Rom?"

"Yes, they asked for my help last night. I told them you were out and I don't know what happened to you but they didn't listen and went out to find you. Say… what happened to the others?"

Callum sighed, "Asleep, I'll find them later. For now we have to –"

"Er – are you two finished?" Harry asked, afraid that he may lose consciousness any time now. His vision was already blurry and he didn't know how much longer he could carry Hermione for.

"Right, how thoughtless of me. Rom, guide our friends to the spare cottage. I'll try to find a Healer to fix you up, mate." Romulus scurried towards the said cottage with Harry and Callum at his heels. "Er – it's messy, but it is, er – livable."

Harry nodded slightly, his eyes already half-closed from fatigue so he couldn't see his surroundings clearly as he staggered to keep up. Romulus opened the cottage door and the two of them stepped inside.

"Well, Callum and I will be around if you need anything. Also, there's a potion kit and some gauze there by the sink," Romulus said, hesitant to go out of the cottage. A bit confused as to what happened, Harry watched as he scrambled away and closed the door. He spotted a bed and gently laid Hermione in it, careful not to wake her up from her slumber. He knelt down by the bed for a while and watched her breathe.

He could still remember how he used to do this, during the time when they were alone in the tent. When she had no more tears to shed, she finally slept, so Harry tucked her in and observed her peaceful state. It was the only time he allowed himself to comfort Hermione, knowing that deep inside, he was responsible for all her pain.

He knew he had to wait for Callum, but he finally felt his eyelids closing and gratefully met the darkness once again.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Thoughts? Opinions? Did it give you a bit of an insight to what would happen and how the story would progress? :)


	6. Chapter 5: The Game Begins

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Hello everyone! Here's another update! Wow, we're finally going somewhere, lol. This story is very different from my other one, **Life Goes On**, so I'm a bit excited and giddy for your opinions. Thank you for all the reviews/fave/story alert. Keep on sending me your reviews. :)

Special thanks to my awesome friend and BETAs, **anitablakefan2007 **and **Rutoh-Chan **for helping me bring this story to life! Thank you so much for all the hard work!

* * *

**Chapter 5 – The Game Begins**

_If I could see beyond the here and now_

_If you could hear me calling you somehow  
_

_If I could know that love is reaching out  
_

_To find you with me tonight_

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

Harry was dreaming again, dreaming of the exact nightmare he always had after the war. He could still remember the smell of Hogwarts burning, could still see the spells firing in every direction… it didn't seem as if it had been years since it ended. As he moved around, he saw men and women fighting for their lives… some dueling Death Eaters, others tending to the wounded. He ran as fast as he could, looking for the main battle ground, his nose filled with the aroma of smoke. His mind was vaguely aware of all the shouts and screams of his comrades… of all the laughter and taunts of the enemy. With a heaving sigh, he continued to run.

He had grown tired of this. After years of resisting, he finally let himself succumb to the dreams, even though it broke his heart to see his loved ones dying all over again. It was the same one he kept having since the end of the war… running around Hogwarts, watching people die in front of his eyes… He had finally learned how to embrace the darkness, even though he loathed it. He just… waited for darkness to let go of him, and when it did, he realized that it was time to wake up from his restless slumber. But something was amiss… he could still smell the smoke even when his eyes were ready to open.

Hermione did not even see him stir in his sleep, too busy trying to helplessly turn off the fire from the stove. She got more frustrated when the dark fog got thicker by every passing second, finally vanishing in time with the bread falling onto the wooden floor. When she was knelt down to pick up the bread, she saw him sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Er – good… morning?" she said tentatively as she picked up the bread.

Harry stood up and swayed a bit; his head felt like it has been hit by a bludger. "What… happened?" he asked, squinting from the brightness.

For a moment, Hermione found herself incapable of speech. She had known what she was going to tell the bloody git once he woke up, and even practiced the speech she created in her head. She was going to scold him… she would raise her voice and shout furiously at him until she was satisfied. Then, she would make certain agreements with him, set up some rules that they would abide, and once she was sure that he was properly chastised for his lack of caution, she would ask if he was feeling better… and make him sit on the chair… and serve him breakfast.

But she didn't expect the sudden relief she felt when she saw him sitting there. In one moment, her plans were spoiled and the breakfast she cooked didn't look, er – appetizing. Not only did Hermione expect Harry to wake up later, but she also didn't expect her anger to instantly evaporate when she saw that he was all right.

"Er – are you all right, Hermione?"

"Hermione?" she started, forcing herself to remember her plan. "Do not tell me that you also lost your memory."

"Lily…" he said, hiding his face in embarrassment as he scratched the back of his head. "I thought you, er – would prefer to be called by your real name when we're alone."

"As much as it would make sense, I'd rather be called Lily even in private, so that we don't blow our cover."

"Right, er – sorry."

"Yes, of course, you'd better be sorry!" she retorted, gathering all her frustrations to give him a piece of her mind. "Do you even realize that what you did was utter rubbish? Did you actually think that your wounds were going to heal themselves? Or were you feeling so cocky that you actually thought that you were incapable of bleeding to death?"

Harry could only stand there in shock as he listened to her. He barely comprehended what she was saying… but as he looked at himself, he realized that he was covered in thick bandages and when he looked at the floor, beside the little cot they set up for him, he saw the empty vials scattered around and realized how bad the night had been.

"Do you realize how horrified I was when I suddenly found you dying on the edge of the bed, a second after I woke up?" she said, her body shaking at the intensity of her emotions. She remembered the scene vividly in her head… his clothes tattered, terrible gashes and bruises all over his body...she couldn't contain the tears when she saw his state. "You had me running around like a loony, feeling utterly helpless and weak!"

Harry couldn't bring himself to look at her chocolate eyes because he could already hear the underlying fear in her voice, despite her attempt to become angry with him. He could see her shuffling her feet and chose to welcome the blows she aimed at him.

"If Callum and Romulus hadn't been there, I – I wouldn't know, I –" She breathed in to calm her racing heart, trying to hold back the tears. She had been so close… so close to losing the only person she could depend on. Suddenly, the volume of her voice sank to a mere whisper, as she finally let her tears fall. "You don't know how it felt… I honestly thought I would lose you. I loathed every moment that I was helpless."

She stopped her rampage to wipe her tears as she turned away from him. She had fulfilled her goal, even though it did not go as she had planned it to. Her uncharacteristic display of emotions was the last thing she expected but… surely she had been able to scold him a couple of times during their lifetime, hadn't she?

Harry wanted to vanish as he listened to her. He could feel her emotions as the words came out of her mouth… and felt a pang of guilt in his heart for causing her that much pain. If she only lashed out – chased him, punched him- done anything but cry; he was never good with crying women, never knew how to comfort them. And knowing that it was he who made his best friend cry, was more than he could take.

The two of them fell silent for awhile so all they could hear was the frantic beating of their own hearts. Hermione started to wonder what was going on inside Harry's mind as she stared at the empty space in front of her. Despite her frustrations, she remembered what Callum told her, how Harry saved them and how he thought of her more than himself. Instantly, she felt guilty for what she has said, but was determined not to go back on her word. When she finally realized that he wasn't going to talk, she sighed and said uncertainly, "You should eat the breakfast I prepared for you."

Harry stared at her for a moment and averted his gaze towards the table. He saw the plates and the utensils neatly set, along with a bowl of soup. Knowing that he didn't want to see any more of Hermione's wrath, he awkwardly sat in the chair. She soon followed suit and sat opposite him as silence resumed once more.

Hermione couldn't speak, too anxious about the result of her first cooking endeavor and too caught up with the things she said earlier. When she saw him start stirring the soup, she felt her heart beat ringing in her ears… did it look that bad? Maybe the food was not, well... decent as she thought. She knew that men loved eating good food…

"Well, are you going to eat it or not?" she said sternly.

"Er – yeah, sorry," Harry replied, hastily shoving the… soup in his mouth. He didn't want to be the object of her frustrations anymore. He continued eating, barely savoring the taste of the food as he attempted to please her with his non-existing appetite. With everything that had transpired a few minutes after he woke up, he never even thought about eating. But he realized that she was a woman, after all, and women loved to express their emotions by cooking. Even Hermione did it a couple of times before… though he couldn't say she'd been successful.

She looked intently at him as he put spoonfuls of the soup in his mouth. His face was blank so she didn't know what was going on inside his mind. "It is bad, isn't it?"

Harry looked up from his food and smiled at her, gulping the last spoonful of soup. "It's…interesting."

"As I thought, it's bad."

"No, you misunderstand. It is, er –" truthfully, he didn't know how to describe it because he barely tasted it as he shoved it quickly in his mouth. But then, as he finished the last bit, he realized that it was not bad at all… just bland. He quickly went to fill his bowl with another scoop of soup just to make her see that it wasn't what he meant.

Hermione smiled as he saw him eating eagerly and filled her own bowl with porridge. "This is the first time I cooked a meal, really. Callum came here a while ago and gave me some ingredients that would pass to make a decent serving of porridge so I took the opportunity to learn from him and make it myself. I thought that when you woke up, you would need all the energy you can get."

He nodded briefly and gave her a small smile. Truth be told, he was very touched by her concern for him, something she always had. "Er – thanks."

She returned his smile and dug in. Harry was about to take another spoonful when he saw her standing from her seat and running to the sink.

"Are you –"

"That was really disgusting," she exclaimed as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She grabbed his bowl and tested the soup, leaving Harry staring agape with the spoon still suspended in front of his mouth. Sure enough, she ran back into the sink and spit it out.

She leaned on the sink and did not utter a single word and he instantly knew how frustrated she was as he observed how her back was turned upon him. "It isn't anything near disgusting."

When she did not respond and remained still, he panicked inwardly and tried to think of something to ease the current tension. "Thanks for the meal. I appreciate it, really."

Hermione felt her eyes burning after hearing his voice. She mentally berated herself for being weak and incapable… she had to be strong now. Surely she shouldn't let such trivial matters bother her. She could still try again "…is your mum a good cook? I wish I could tell you about mine but… I can't remember."

The question caught Harry off guard and he briefly wondered if his mum was a good cook, or if she ever cooked for his dad and the others. Well, he never did find out, did he? He tried to recall his very few memories of her, but all he could see were blurred images when she held him in her arms or when she smiled at him. Somehow, everything was vague and despite all those moments he got to experience with her, they were always tainted by the memory of the green light. "I… wish I knew."

Surprised by the sober look on his face, Hermione resisted the temptation to ask the dozens of questions that loomed inside her mind. In the short time that they spent together, she found out that he would eventually open up if or when he wanted to. Still, if only he could let go of some of the pain in his eyes… if he could only share some of his burden…

_"Harry, give me the locket! Come on," a familiar voice said impatiently, clicking her fingers at him when he did not react. "The Horcrux, Harry, you're still wearing it!"_

_She held out her hands, and the man… Harry lifted the golden chain over his head. _

_"Better?" asked the woman, giving him a small smile._

Hermione blinked a few times after seeing the familiar scene in her head. The woman… it was her. She didn't know if she wanted to feel happy that there was a time she helped him relieve some of his trouble… or sad, that she wasn't the same person Harry knew. Shaking her head, she gave Harry a small smile when she realized he had been staring at her.

"Well, I guess we won't be able to achieve anything like this. In my current state, I think learning would be easier than remembering, don't you think?" she said, trying to change the topic.

He couldn't help but feel a bit relieved at her suggestion and smirked. He realized that it had always been Hermione's uncanny ability to try again when she failed, though this event was not really attributed to her memories. "You'll get the hang of it, eventually," he said comfortingly, "I know a fairly decent amount of recipes so we can work on it together. I'm sure you'll do great in no time."

Her face visibly brightened in an instant and her eyes lit up at his suggestion. "Brilliant."

He was happy to see her in that state, which was very different from the way she was when he woke up. Maybe doing some mundane chores with her wouldn't be so bad, he thought. They had done it before, back when he was taking care of Teddy Lupin and even if it only lasted for a few hours, they were… happy. Suddenly, he felt glad that he would get the chance to experience this with her, however short-lived.

"Promise me you won't tell Callum and the others that I didn't know how to cook," she said hesitantly, looking away as she felt warmth in her cheeks, "I don't want them to think that you have such an incompetent wife."

He suddenly stood up from his seat as the words slowly sunk in. "W– w– wife?"

His expression must have been appalled, for she looked at him sharply, "Is it that shocking to have me as your wife? You're the one who told them that I am with child!"

"W– wha– I didn't say anything like –"

"You told Callum that I was in a very _delicate_ condition."

"I– I didn't mean to say it that way, I– I thought–"

Hermione slumped ungracefully back into her chair and crossed her arms, a bit of annoyed at his reaction. "Well, the damage has been done. Or do you want to complicate things even further?"

"Er– no, but I–"

"Well, it's settled then. As of now, we are husband and wife."

She observed how his expression changed and felt herself sinking down her chair. She hadn't thought about his reaction and had to bite her lip in an effort to keep a straight face. She looked at him curiously, wondering what he was thinking. She suddenly felt guilty for making him feel like this and asked herself if she had brought their little game too far. "I – I'm sorry, James, are we violating someone else's right?"

"What?"

"Well, er– do I have someone...?"

"None that I know of," he managed to blurt out, too afraid to tell her about the red-headed wizard she kept mentioning during her periods of unconsciousness. He didn't know if she could remember what happened during her delirium.

"And you?"

"No one, none at all." Except…

"Well, that settles it then."

He studied her features for a while and noticed the triumphant smile on her face. Deep in the recesses of his mind, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. If Hermione had all her memories, would she approve of this?

With a sigh, he closed his eyes and rested his head on his hand to clear his mind and nodded at her, too overwhelmed to even speak.

Hermione leapt towards him and enveloped him in a hug. When she let go, he realized that her eyes were twinkling. This idea… this game, greatly appealed to her and made her even more excited. "So, do you want me to call you darling or dear? Or would you prefer love?"

"J– James w– would be enough." He couldn't hide the blush in his cheeks as he walked away.

Hermione kept her eyes on him, a bit relieved that she was able to convince him of her plan. Callum and Romulus indeed inquired if he was her husband and although shocked, she had just decided to nod. After all, they did not really look like siblings. The pregnancy, on the other hand, was just something she created in order to tease Harry, because Callum thought she was pregnant when he came by this morning, but she could not hide the satisfied smirk she had when she realized he had fallen for it. She would tell him later though.

"I– I'm going to look outside. Er– you know, fresh air," he said, the blush on his cheeks still evident.

"Sure," she replied, trying to keep a straight face. She exhaled a relieved sigh as she watched Harry exit the door.

It was only when he left the cottage that she decided to let out her laughter.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Thoughts? Opinions? :) Would you like to see more of their past or would you rather see what would happen next? Reviews will be much appreciated.


	7. Chapter 6: Hope

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Hello everyone! Another update! Sorry I couldn't be faster with these, school's eating up all my time. I hope this clears up some of the confusion and give a little light to what will happen next. Anyway, I won't be able to update next week because I have tons of exams (5 freakin' subjects). But I promise that the next chapters will be worth it. Also, I want to have some of your opinions regarding some scenes you want to see in this story, as well as opinions for this chapter. Many thanks to all those people who are still supporting this. :)

Special thanks to my awesome friend and BETA, **anitablakefan2007 **for helping me bring this story to life! Thank you so much for all the hard work!

* * *

**Chapter 6: Hope**

_Maybe she will save me in the oceans of her dream_

_And maybe someday love_

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

After the first war, everything was peaceful. Even though some Ministry officials were corrupt, people found it manageable, some didn't even care. They were living life and it was enough, for the sun always rose and the world still moved on. Life was not easy, it never really was, but it was not unbearable. Sometimes, everything felt difficult, but people knew nothing was impossible.

People still went to work in the Ministry or in their chosen careers, and children old enough went to school to study magic. Sometimes, families would get together to watch the Quidditch World Cup and other times, they spent their days inside their respective homes, playing Quidditch or talking about their adventures. The Magical World of Britain was progressing, the people were happy.

That was until war broke out again.

Everyone thought that it would be only temporary; that the bouts of violence would end with a triumphant victory as the boy-who-lived struggled to defeat the Dark Lord. People volunteered to help the army of Light, but most of them ended up dying. The fight went on and the world was shrouded in darkness. Eventually, some people retreated and some joined the Dark Lord. Still, they hoped that the Light would bring them through.

The man was told about the massacre that happened during the second war. While his parents tried to keep him in the dark, he was aware of their decision to join with the Dark Lord – if only to ensure their lives would be spared. He knew they did their best to obey their master's wishes, all the while passing information onto the other side. It was because of this knowledge that the said man secretly believed in the Light, because their supporters weren't driven by fear but rather by loyalty and compassion.

The world they knew suddenly crumbled, replaced by the ashes that reigned and swallowed everything whole. Remembering fond memories of the past became a hurdle when the lively land he once knew was turned into a nest of evil, full of wicked creatures and an army of Death Eaters. The country was ravaged and destroyed, without a tinge of mercy and it broke their hearts. The land the sun once kissed had turned cold and lifeless as Dementors took flight, lingering in the shadows and sucking the happiness that filled each person. And the living? They did not forget. Some people, like the man, were filled with such rage that becoming evil suddenly felt pleasant and not a betrayal that it once felt. Evil was the only thing he could think of thereafter, the only thing that could bring about retribution.

People did change.

The revival of the Ministry that he once believed in was just a loathsome sight now. Bitterness shadowed his mind and regret of ever trusting the Light filled his heart. He had trusted them to keep his family safe. It was their promise, their oath. But still, he was left alone, left alone to mourn for those he lost as the world moved on without him once again. The Light wasn't able to save the people he loved, it was the one who shattered his dream… it was the same light who had let them die.

Without him knowing, the Minister started his will to rebuild what was lost, along with the boy-who-won and his friends. The man kept observing them, their happy smiles and their carefree life. Because of it, he couldn't help but hate every moment that he left them alive. The thought of revenge was a part of him; it lingered in his veins as much as hate. Losing _her_ memory was the first step in showing the Ministry its wrong ways, he thought. After all, those memories had too much bearing in her decisions as a member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She would be too much of a loss, the first step to the Ministry's downfall… and the downfall of the impenetrable boy-who-won.

The man needed her, needed her to destroy them, for she was a valuable part of the Ministry. Now, as he stood there, he thought of a way to use her as bait, for this poison he was brewing would make her obey him and would bring about destruction. It would be enough to use as a form of payment for the lives lost, it would be enough to destroy the enemies.

She may hide… but he would eventually find her. And when that happened, his family would be avenged.

* * *

Hermione was able to finish _Hogwarts, a History _in two days. She looked at it with slight fascination, and smelled its musty scent. Contemplatively, she cradled the book against her chest as she tried to remember what importance it had served in her life. Harry said she cherished it, always sighting passages from the book since he'd known her and for her… it felt right. There was something in the book that made her thirst to know why there were all sorts of feelings that enveloped her every time she read… it was a part of her.

Hermione looked around once more for Harry, making sure she was truly alone in the cottage as she removed a folded parchment that was safely tucked inside the book. A slanted handwriting came to view as she opened the parchment, and she couldn't help but wonder who sent it. Apparently, past-Hermione tore it so that only a part of the message could be read and sadly… it didn't make any sense.

"Keep it close."

She was frustrated. She didn't know why her past-self deemed it necessary to keep it inside her book, let alone why she had to tear it. _Keep it close_. She chanted the words over and over, trying to remember the important things that could've been associated with it, as if it could make her feel the sense of familiarity she was longing for.

Nothing.

Keep. It. Close. Was it some sort of an important thing someone gave to her? Another book she cherished perhaps? Jewelry? She shook her head and sighed. What kind of things did someone keep close? She knew it was an _it_, so a person was already off her list. As she ravaged her thoughts for any particular thing she possessed that was worth keeping close, there was still… nothing.

She did not realize she had been chanting the words over and over until she saw a pair of emerald eyes looking at her with an amused expression on his face.

"James!" she exclaimed, suddenly feeling warmth spreading on her cheeks. Surely her childish behavior would have looked funny in the eyes of another.

"Er– I'm sorry I startled you," he replied, scratching the back of his head. He also looked somewhat embarrassed as a pink tint appeared on his cheeks. Yet, as she saw his eyes, she felt a different kind of emotion playing in the soft emeralds… sadness.

She got up from the bed and walked towards the kitchen, asking Harry to follow her by sitting on one of the seats and glancing back at him significantly. He seemed hesitant as he let out a deep breath, but he obliged her silent request.

"I found a part of a letter neatly folded inside the book," she began, focusing her attention on the little piece of parchment that she failed to see the surprised look in his eyes, "Would you happen to know about it?"

"Er– well, it is a part of the letter someone… special gave you during your sixteenth birthday," he said suddenly, yet his mind was already panicking on what he should tell her next as words kept ringing in his ears.

_It was given by someone I considered family, someone close to both of us_, Harry thought.

"Oh," she looked at him, as a small smile crept on her face at the recognition, "a letter for my birthday…"

"Yes."

_I was there when he died. I could not prevent it from happening… I let him fall… I failed him…_

"He was a wonderful person, a bit playful too. He always turned into a dog when he wanted to visit us, even if it meant taking risks," he supplied, remembering the black dog that used to follow them to King's Cross, wagging his tail jovially as he trudged on to keep pace with them.

Hermione knitted her brows in concentration, running her thumb over the words. "A friend," she said, as if in a trance. "What happened to the rest of the letter and the gift?"

He avoided her gaze and looked away. He still couldn't fathom that they were discussing this particular subject. How did this happen, he asked himself, sighing. "He gave you a key to his house."

She remained silent, yet her eyes were wide with surprise at the notion of a male giving her the key to his flat. Was he… her boyfriend? What kind of person was he? Did he love her? Did she love him? Was he worth forgetting? "But you said that I wasn't, er– romantically involved to anyone…"

"NO, I didn't mean that, er- sorry. He…" If someone who knew was listening, he might have found this situation a bit funny, especially after what Hermione had said. But Harry remembered more and he hated to be the bearer of bad news. How could he forget that fateful night when his own godfather died in front of his eyes? He couldn't forget that image, as much as he wanted to. There was Sirius, fighting for what he believed in when he fell into that bloody Veil and all he could do was shout, as grief and anger flowed through his veins.

After that, his whole world slowly crumbled apart. He could still imagine Hermione's face laced with tears when she found out about it, that even though the Healer said she shouldn't force herself to do things that could harm her after the curse she has sustained from Dolohov, she wept throughout the whole night, her body shaking with the strength of her sobs as she joined him in his despair.

"H– Harry?" she said uncertainly, calling him by his real name for the first time since their arrival. She tucked the stray hair away from his forehead from where she sat, looking at him with bright, shining eyes. "Would I rather not know?"

"H– he was my Godfather, Sirius Black. He gave you the keys so that you could visit his library anytime you wanted to," he said and felt surprised as she placed her hand on top of his, giving him some comfort as she bit her lower lip.

"It wasn't a very good memory, was it?"

He nodded, feeling the heavy burden in his heart.

Hermione turned away and held the paper to her chest as she tried to sort out her feelings. "But I don't feel bad or upset about it, even if he must've been close to me."

"He was. He was someone we held dear."

"Then, I suppose he would forgive me if I chose to discuss another topic," she smiled, giving him a squeeze, "Tell me more about the past."

"The past?" he asked, a bit surprised by her request. He had braced himself for the questions Hermione might ask, but it still caught him off guard.

"Yes. You can tell me about how we met, or what you thought about me… anything will do, actually."

Harry's eyes widened at her request. He didn't know what he should tell her about herself or where he should start. He had known her for many years now, but there were still things he didn't know… and he didn't want to embarrass himself by implanting false statements in her mind. He scratched the back of his head and smiled nervously, thinking of something, anything they could talk about. "Well, er– I actually don't know where to start."

"You can start from the beginning," she said.

"I, er– all right. Let me see," he started, slumping down his seat opposite hers while looking at the ceiling. He thought about that fateful day, aboard the Hogwart's Express and could feel the same exhilaration and excitement he felt back then. It was a very significant memory for him, for it was that trip he had met his best friends for the first time. "The first time we met was during the train ride to Hogwarts. You were looking for Neville's toad and went inside our compartment, only to witness Ron performing a spell to make his rat yellow," he supplied, smiling when he remembered the scene. "He failed terribly and you well, showed us a spell to fix my glasses–"

"_Oculus Reparo!_" she supplied excitedly, her eyes bright with realization.

"Er– yes, and then you proceeded to help Neville find Trevor the toad. We didn't become close until we saved you from a troll during Halloween."

"You did?" she said, taken aback.

"Well, er– you and Ron always bickered, you see and er– he sent you crying that Halloween night so you didn't know about a troll that was let lose."

"I think it was quite an adventure," she supplied, eyes shining while she imagined the scene.

Harry chuckled when he saw her face. Yes, it really was, he thought as his memories brought him back to that very day they became best friends. Had it already been that long? Not too long ago, the three of them were inseparable, fighting a Dark Lord and his evil minions, just the thought of how much they had been through made a smile erupt from his lips. "It was."

Hermione felt sad that she could not remember these moments that they had shared, how nothing tugged her heart and she felt no emotional connection when Harry told her about a part of her past. And what was worse, when he mentioned someone who played an important part of her life, no feelings were triggered when she thought about his name.

Unlike Harry.

Hermione was… reassured whenever he was near. What he had shown her so far was worthy of anyone's respect, especially when she knew he was willing to risk his own life for her. Was it some sort of confusion-induced feeling? Was it wrong to think about it, to _feel_ it?

Yet, now that she thought about it, she could barely remember him. She didn't know what kind of relationship she had shared with him, and she didn't know much about him. She knew he had been with her since she was young and that she had always been a part of his adventures with Ron. She had been with him as she grew up, as part of her past… yet, everything else was still enveloped by a shadow, lost in a blur.

Was the comfort she felt with Harry's presence a product of what he had done in the past? Or was it because of the role he played in her present? She didn't know how to answer this, for she always felt comfortable… safe, whenever he was around. After all, he was always there to protect her… support her… teach her… always be there for her.

She realized that she depended on him and she felt a mixture of emotions – sadness, confusion… but most of all the thirst to know more about this man.

Sure, he had his share of flaws. He was too aloof, too serious for his own good. Not to mention that he rarely smiled and almost only talked when he needed to tell her something important. And when he looked at her, he always had that blanket of sadness in his eyes.

Was it her fault? Or was it his? No matter how much she thought about it, no logical answer came up in her mind. Harry remembered her, unlike the way she could not remember him. He also knew much about her that she didn't even know herself and she felt as if his image of her now was tainted by what they had been through in the past.

"James?" Hermione asked hesitantly, calling him again by his present name, her eyes gazing at the hands she kept in her lap. "How was I before I got… sick? Had I been more withdrawn? Was our relationship merely caused by our adventures? Was I… distant?"

Harry was taken aback and looked at her uncertainly. "Er– I don't… really know how to answer that," he answered as he continued to look down, refusing to meet her in the eye. "We were close but I can't say that it stayed the same after the war we were a part of ended. You… never really preferred my company afterwards."

She blinked at his response, refusing to believe that what he said was true as her mind tried to search for something, anything to prove him wrong. "I… didn't?"

Harry remained silent, his unflappable expression refusing to give her any clue. He remembered well how it was. She went back to Hogwarts after the war, while he set off to become an Auror. And while there were times that he visited her, no amount of talking brought back how they were before the war. She was always with Ron, they were together and who was he to deny them their happiness, even if it didn't include him? Those Hogsmeade weekends Hermione spent with him became less and less frequent as time went by, just because he knew that she and Ron should spend that day together, preferably without him. He wanted them to be happy, because he knew he too would be happy with them. But at that time, he felt her slipping away… never again would she be the Hermione – that one person who chose him when everything seemed to be falling apart. For in that moment, she was Ron's, they were together. Harry knew that he was happy for his best friends… but it was also because of their relationship that he discovered that sometimes, you had to let them be, and find happiness in yourself.

After the war, he had been too broken to realize that the world had moved on without him. Still, she was there, how could she not be? She was Hermione for Merlin's sake! But even so, he was not able to return her efforts and… they had drifted apart; the small bridges they tried to build were not enough to regain what they once shared. Now that she was happy with Ron… now that Voldemort was no longer at their heels, they'd be able to rebuild their lives… and this time, he would let them be. Or maybe he was just too scared he would lose them that he thought he should let them be happy. Even his relationship with Ginny went haywire after the war… Maybe he had completely lost the ability to make Hermione really smile because he was too broken to pick up the pieces and when he did… she too, had moved on.

"James?"

"I, er– sorry."

"Don't be," she replied, her voice softer than before as she looked at him with a comforting smile, "I don't know what happened to us in the past and even though I can't remember it, my feelings tell me you are wrong. I enjoy your company, very much, in fact."

"Er–"

"James," she said firmly as she placed her hand in his. "I– if you think I don't like you, then look at it this way. I as Lily, see you as a very good friend. You are important to me and whatever happened in the past will not affect the 'us' we have now. Maybe, this happened for a reason… maybe this time, we will be able to work it out."

"Thanks, er– Lily. This must be hard for you." He said, finally looking at her chocolate eyes as he gave her a grateful smile.

"Oh James, I believe we'll be all right, we have each other."

Harry couldn't help but nod as he let everything sink in. How long had it been since he heard those words? The very notion that she believed in him was enough for him to relieve some of the burdens on his chest. Maybe she was right, maybe this incident was all they needed to regain the bond they had lost.

"Your smile looks goofy," she said, grinning at him as she looked at his face.

"Well, I– "

"Honestly," she supplied, her own happiness evident in her eyes. Then, she realized… losing her memory didn't seem as bad as she initially thought. Maybe this way, she'd see things in a new light. She wished that Harry could think of the situation just as positively.

For now, she would take one step at a time, with Harry by her side.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Thoughts? Opinions? :) Do you still want some snippets of the past? Did it clear up some confusions? :)


	8. Chapter 7: Unpredictable

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Hello everyone! I was a bit excited the next few chapters so here is a good update! Thank you for all the good opinions and questions, and I am telling you now, all will be answered in due time.

A lot of changes have been made in the site, so if you can take a moment to tell me your opinions, please type it in the little box below. Who knows, maybe there are still unanswered questions out there that my benefit the story. Thank you for all the support and favorites and most of all, the reviews! :)

Special thanks to my awesome friend and BETA, **anitablakefan2007 **for helping me bring this story to life! Thank you so much for all the hard work!

* * *

**Chapter 7: Unpredictable Reasons**

_But the same love will take this heart that's barely beating_

_And fill it with hope beyond the stars, only love_

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

Hermione had never known shopping could be so much fun. She could vaguely remember a time in her life when she bought presents for friends and family, although she felt it was more out of obligation than for fun. Today, however, she decided that shopping for the cottage was actually enjoyable, especially since it brought a sense of comfort and made the place feel more like home. It also helped that the bazaar in this coastal town was amazing; the products from all over Britain, the large variety of items both magical and non-magical (such as the fruits and vegetables in one stand), and the vibrant colors of the mats and tents that housed the merchants' wares all made the bazaar one incredible place to be.

Has it really been two weeks? She felt as if time passed rather quickly in this small village. In that small amount of time, Harry already found a job as a worker in Callum's tavern and she had already read five of the books Harry brought for her. She had been learning how to cook as well and the food had a bit of a flavor now, in contrast to the last disaster she was able to create.

"Did you hear? Maria had a fight with her fiancé again."

"What? Again?"

"That's right. Maria feels he is too withdrawn, but aren't they all?"

Hermione sighed inwardly. It was clear that neither sex would ever understand the other. Women would say and do things to confuse men, and men would act in ways that would confuse women. From personal experience, she could attest that men could say they were fine when their eyes said otherwise and they were constantly on their guard or building a wall.

"She only wanted to ask him a question about their upcoming wedding, but he quickly changed the subject and went for a walk around the dueling area."

Hermione tuned out the response as she thought of the dueling arena Callum and some of the men had set up recently. At first, she thought it would be good recreation for Harry. Forced to spend all of his time with her, Hermione thought she would be happy to see him go out and have some fun. Night after night of Harry coming home with scrapes, bruises, and torn clothing had changed her mind completely. What could she do or say though? Considering it was her idea that he went, the best she could do was tell him to be more careful. Harry's only response was to shrug indifferently and tell her he was used to much worse than the little scrapes she saw. What he didn't understand was that no amount of reassurance from him would stop her from feeling uneasy whenever she saw him hurt.

"Um… e– excuse me…" the old vendor said, waving her hand in Hermione's face as she tried to get her attention.

She snapped away from her thoughts. "I am so sorry. I, er– I– I'll just buy some of your fresh mangoes here."

She gave an awkward smile, feeling the gaze of the two gossipers on her. She suddenly realized the possibility of becoming a hot topic for the two of them. When all the while she was trying her best not to draw too much attention, knowing attention may bring her and Harry trouble.

"I haven't seen you around before, dearie. Are you with that newcomer James? He comes around here often and makes conversation with every single vendor. Very nice man, that James."

Hermione wasn't sure what to say in response to the old woman. She decided to just play her part of the game. "Yes. I'm Lily, his wife."

At least Harry was not as timid around others, she thought, as he was with her. She tried not to get frustrated over the notion but felt a little better when she remembered how patient he had been with her.

The two exchanged polite good-byes and Hermione was on her way to the dueling arena, deep in thought about the mystery that was Harry James Potter.

At the arena people gathered around to watch the variety of ways wizards could duel with only a wand as a weapon. The men within the fenced off area seemed to be having fun, while those sitting on or around the fence talked about spells and curses they had encountered in their day.

Finally spotting Harry in a corner, listening to an older gentleman tell his tale, Hermione started in his direction. Coming closer, she noticed a cut in his sleeve and sighed. She wished she could give him a piece of her mind, wished she could tell him how irritated she was about his withdrawal from her and his apparent lack of personal care – especially his lack of care regarding his clothing, which could have easily been repaired with magic.

"James," she started, giving a polite nod and shy smile to his companions as she stopped beside him.

"Hermio-Lily!" he gasped. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"What did you say, James? Now I see why you aren't getting any," the old man laughed with Callum, falling in the sand clumsily.

Hermione tilted her head slightly in confusion, not getting any what? Frustrated, she almost wanted to step on Harry's foot.

"Er– I… That is, er–" Harry coughed once and smiled awkwardly, noticing her angry glare. "We've got to head out, see you lot later," Harry said quickly to get out of what could end up an even more awkward conversation. Grabbing Hermione's hand, he led her away from the dueling arena.

"Er– sorry about that," he said, letting go of her hand and putting his own inside his pockets as they walked a few feet away from the crowd.

Hermione gave him a glare that could kill thousands, but surprised him when she smiled brightly.

"I went around the market today and looked for things that we could put inside the cottage," she said, looking at him uncertainly, "Can you… go with me in buying them?"

It was only then Harry noticed the paper bags she was holding in one arm. He quickly took it from her and gave her a smile. "Yes, of course," he nodded.

He couldn't help but continue smiling as he saw hers widen. He had always been fond of her smile and treasured it, though he refused to admit it. It was dangerous for him to do so… and also a dangerous thing to be fond of. "So… what did you buy?"

"Oh, nothing much. I've bought us bread and some mangoes."

He examined the contents of the paper bag he was holding, in an effort to veer away his gaze from her face. Being around her was the most difficult thing to do as of late, but when he was with her… when he was with her, he couldn't seem to move away. He knew he shouldn't feel this way; she was his best friend! Still…

"Hey… that's my favorite fruit you know!" a familiar small voice interrupted them and sure enough, Romulus was there, standing behind them. "Lily, you did promise us that you'll let us have a taste of your cooking."

"Hello there, Romulus! We didn't see you coming!" she gasped and grinned nervously, "I did promise you that, but er–" she was quiet for a while, thinking hard for an excuse.

"Er– I think tonight is not a very good time…" Harry added hurriedly as he realized that Hermione was having a hard time coming up with a response. The quips that followed completely surprised him.

"All right! James is going to get some!" Romulus shouted just enough for the men to hear.

"Go for it James!"

"You snoopy bloke! Come here and leave those two alone!"

He froze for a moment as he heard the men's laughter. They were quite a rowdy bunch and it reminded him of his days in the Auror office. His comrades were also a pain in the arse sometimes, especially when they talked about his non-existent love life and his inability to mutter 'I love you' to someone, despite being old enough to settle down. His experience back at those times told him that it would be best to just let them be.

Hermione thought that seeing the men fooling around was like a breath of fresh air. She never imagined them to be as unruly or as outspoken as the women had been. She supposed that was the whole atmosphere of the Rippleshack. It was a place where you can abandon all reticence and do as you please. It was a place where one could just … be.

It was hard to do just that when they had been forced to stay there and play a game of charades. At the same time, she felt content with her life at that moment… it was highly enjoyable.

She was surprised when she felt his hand on her elbow, leading her away. She waved awkwardly to the men to say to goodbye and they returned the gesture with grins on their faces.

"Alright," Harry sighed heavily, "let's go back to the market and buy the stuff you wanted."

"It's settled, then, we'll go to the garment shop first."

"Er– why there? I thought you wanted to buy something for the cottage."

Hermione sighed at him. Any moment now, she was going to have a headache from Harry being so thick. "I've been meaning to talk to you about your lack of care when it comes to yourself… or your belongings for that matter."

"My… belongings?" he was surprised when she started putting her finger inside a ripped hole in the side of his shirt.

"See, you always come home with a new tear in your clothes and even though I know you can fix it with magic, it will still be for the best to have a fresh set of clothes." She abruptly stopped him in front of the garment stall, eager to begin.

"Lily, I don't think –"

"You did say I could buy the stuff I wanted, didn't you?" she glared at him, stepping inside the stall, leaving Harry there with his thoughts.

Although he had bought a fair amount of clothes during his lifetime, this was totally new to him. For the past years, he depended on his Auror robes and the hand-me-downs he acquired from the Dursleys, not really interested in buying new sets of clothes unless he needed to. Sure he had bought a few sets of clothes, but…

He watched as Hermione talked to the merchant. He saw her bite her lip after the merchant asked her a question, pointing at different colors and selection of clothes. He never had a woman shop for him before. Even Ginny never went as far as picking out things for him… especially his own clothing.

He suddenly realized that at his age, he could've had a wife helping him with those things.

The past few weeks had been quite a new experience for him. In the past, Hermione used to stay at Grimmauld Place and even helped take care of Teddy, but he never felt this way. Living in a simple cottage by the sea, coming home to find her waiting for him, smiling lovingly while she tried to cook dinner… helping her with the chores and cleaning the house, it was all new to him. Unfortunately, he knew he could not keep imagining and hoping for something he could never have. He persuaded her to stop doing, trying and attempting to do all these things. It distracted him; it made him forget that she was just acting her part; it made him forget that he must also act his.

"James, do you like this white shirt? Or do you prefer a green one?" He remained silent as she held the shirts in front of him, placing one over his chest to see how it would look.

"Er– you can pick one that you think is best," he replied.

"Don't you have any preference?" she frowned, giving him a threatening glare.

"Both of them look good," he started, only to see her glare intensify, "Although, I like the green one." Hermione's eyes brightened.

"Perfect, it suites your eyes."

He watched her as she moved away to talk to the merchant. He had never experienced the so-called marital bliss, whatever that was. While Bill and the others he knew were perfectly content with their married lives, he never saw himself as part of it. He knew he would love to have his own family one day because it was all that he wished for since he was just a young boy. But for now, his life revolved around work and his godson, and it was not a bit peaceful, being an Auror and all. Not to mention that he never really dated again after breaking up with Ginny. He supposed Hermione wasn't much different – after breaking up with Ron three years ago. Maybe these experiences they shared were both new… and wonderful.

But he knew that this game was starting to go too far. Now that he'd experienced this side of life, he wanted more of it. It felt normal and it never did anything but make him feel content. He felt as though spending some time with this side of Hermione he didn't know made him feel things he wasn't supposed to feel. Like how he felt excited to go home after working, or how he felt glad every time they were together.

Things were good back in London and Ron told him they finally found a lead on the case. They weren't able to send letters as much as he wanted to, because of the fear that it may be intercepted, but knowing that somehow, the Ministry was all into finding out about the incident somehow released some of his worries.

But it had only been two weeks, did he really want this to end so soon?

"James, do you want to go now?" Hermione asked innocently, snapping him out of his thoughts. She walked towards his direction and handed him the paper bag.

Harry shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Both of them started walking away from the stall and Hermione couldn't help but wonder why he fell silent, frowning as she tried to figure out what was wrong. "Did I upset you in any way?"

"Er– sorry. I was just thinking of something."

"Has anyone ever told you that you apologize too much?"

He was taken aback for a second, as he noticed her glare upon him once more, "Er– yes."

She sighed loudly, looking slightly irritated, "I definitely agree with that person, then." She looked at him once more, studying his face as she gazed at his bright emerald eyes that always seemed to shift away whenever they met with hers, "Stop feeling so guilty," she said, sounding like she was ordering him, " Stop putting all the blame on yourself."

He remained silent as they walked and Hermione swore she felt as though he was restraining himself from apologizing to her again. Maybe that was it. That was the reason why he was so withdrawn. Maybe he couldn't get past his mistakes or forget the way she had been. She may have pushed him away unconsciously… when her memories had still been intact…

_... after the war, you… never really preferred my company._

"Stop staying away from me, James. I– I want to… get closer to you."

At that moment, he stopped walking. Sensing this, Hermione stopped and looked behind her, giving him a smile as she raised her eyes to meet his. She could feel her smile getting wider as she realized that, this time, he didn't look away. This time, she could feel his emotions underneath his soulful green eyes, as rare lopsided grin formed in his face.

"Let's– let's go home. We could go shopping tomorrow."

She nodded at him and waited until he caught up with her as they made their way back home. It was as if his words were a truce to a fight that never existed in the first place or it could be a promise. Whatever it was, she was glad at the change she saw in his eyes.

When they arrived inside the cottage, Harry closed the door and found Hermione smiling brightly at him as she sat on the bed, going back to reading another one of her books that he had brought for her. He smiled back at her and proceeded to the kitchen, the memories of this day hitting him like bricks.

He sagged against the wall, arm on his forehead. Being with her led to events that were more fickle than the weather, for women were always like that… unpredictable. But at the moment, he did not have any objections to the idea nor could he bring himself to complain.

He was having the time of his life.

* * *

**Author's Notes****: **Thoughts? Opinions? How are you finding the story? :)


	9. Chapter 8: A Promise, A Memory

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Hello everyone! Here is my favorite chapter! Haven't really had a chance to update in a while because of the storm here. I hope you are all doing well! Thank you for the wonderful reviews and favorites/alerts. You don't know how much they make my day! Anyway, tell me your opinions of this chapter! Reviews are always appreciated!

Special thanks to my awesome friend and BETA, **anitablakefan2007** for helping me bring this story to life! Thank you so much for all the hard work!

* * *

**Chapter 8: A Promise, A Memory**

_Let me raise you up_

_Let me be your love_

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

_"Mate, this vacation is just perfect for you," Ronald Weasley said, pleading __with __Harry to consider his request._

_"I don't know, Ron. You know very well how busy we all get," he replied, running a hand through his hair._

_They were in the middle of lunch break when Ron told him that he was going to the beach with Hermione, and he wanted Harry to come. He was hesitant, of course, because there was a pile of work itching to be finished and he knew that with Ron taking a day-off, they would be undermanned. _

_"C'mon mate, what could possibly happen if you miss a day at work?"_

_"Er – I don't really know."_

_"That's bloody it! What you need to do right now is stop being a git and join us in a relaxing day at the beach."_

_He looked at Ron wearily. The last time he saw the sea was when Victoire was born, and that was roughly a year ago. The idea of spending a day there was very tempting and he wanted so much to accept. He had loads to do, that was certain, but the idea of spending a day at the beach with Ron and Hermione appealed to him. After all, it had been quite a while since he __had __spent the day with his best friends. _

_So, after so much whining and complaints from Ron, he finally agreed. They met up __at__ the Ministry's apparition point, their faces bright with elation at the prospect. When they finally arrived, it took all of his willpower to change and shower first, before dumping everything and swimming at the beach. _

_"I am so glad you finally decided to join us," Hermione said brightly, when she saw him leaving the room. _

_"Er – well, Ron kept nagging me so I gave in."_

_"It's been a long time since we did this, the three of us. I'm actually glad that Ron came up with this idea." She said, pushing away the hair that was covering his eyes. _

_"Surely both of you w__ould__ enjoy this, even if I'm not around," Harry joked._

_"But it is much better if you're here," Hermione said sincerely, her eyes locked on his. She could feel the emotions that lay hidden in the depth of his eyes and knew that he needed this more than he let on. She knew he was grateful for her words, even though he would never admit it. So she smiled at him as he took his hand and gave it a slight squeeze, "Well, we'd better not keep Ron waiting."_

_Both of them made their way __o__nto the shore and searched for Ron, resuming their conversation. She updated him about her work at the Ministry while he listened attentively, adding up a few of his mishaps at work. The waters were cool and perfect for swimming, something both of them were glad about as they descended to its depth__s__. _

_Harry playfully splashed water in Hermione's face, causing the witch to retaliate. In that moment, he forgot about the stress caused by work and his responsibilities… he was just Harry, a young man who was spending time with his best friends. He dodged Ron's attacks and sprayed his face with salt water as he ran, laughing. _

_"Harry –"_

"James?" Hermione looked at him curiously as she took a seat beside him by the porch of the cottage.

Harry blinked and realized that he had been staring blankly at the ocean. He glanced towards the direction of the voice and saw Hermione taking a seat beside him. "Er, sorry – did I bother you?"

"No," he said, offering a warm smile, "I was just… thinking of something."

"Oh," Hermione said, looking at him more intently. Curious, she asked, "What were you thinking about?"

"Just some… memories, really."

Memories… Harry failed to realize that it was a sensitive issue for her, until it was too late. "Er – Sorry I –"

Hermione shook her head then, and gave him a bright smile. "Good memories are treasures, and by the look of your face, I was hoping it was a good one."

He looked back into the shore, his expression serene as he chuckled. "It was, although there were still some misadventures, I suppose."

Hermione followed his gaze and stared as well. "I cannot seem to recall anything about my… experiences with the sea."

Harry was surprised when she brought this up and remembered the few memories he had of the sea with her. He remembered her genuine smiles, her hearty laughs and realized that she had not changed that much at all.

"What do you think about… making some pleasant memories now?" he smiled lopsidedly as his heart welled at the idea. If there was something he wanted her to have in their little adventure, it was to leave her some good memories that would only make her smile. Now was that chance to give her something – a memory, something worth keeping.

What he didn't know was that by asking, Hermione felt something tug in her heart. "What do you mean?"

She watched as Harry slowly stood up, offering his hand to help her stand as well. Then, he tilted his head, motioning her towards the shore.

"We could go? Now?" she asked, failing to hide the sudden excitement in her voice.

"Of course," he said, finally holding her hand.

They walked silently by the shore, looking around as the waves created a slow, steady rhythm that was quite calming for the both of them. The breeze was cool and the sun shone brightly, but it was just mildly warm. They noticed some of the villagers enjoying the beach weather and waved at them, before they continued their leisurely walk.

He let go of her hand as they stopped by the shore. Before, he wouldn't have minded when his best friend touched or held his hand, yet everything was different now. Whether it was from the game or from something else, he couldn't do so much as touch her without eliciting his heart to beat faster.

While he was lost in his thoughts, Hermione wondered when he would speak, for she was contented by the silence. She sighed as she remembered how he had been putting a lot of effort in accommodating her with her whims; whether it was reading a good book, practicing spells or doing chores, he was there by her side and she could only smile by the thought. He was starting to be friendlier towards her, even though he still kept his distance. She still wanted to know if she made him uncomfortable, but was startled when he suddenly bent down in front of her.

"Your experience won't be complete if you don't feel the sand, you know," Harry said, giving her a warm smile as she watched him remove his sandals. Almost automatically, she mimicked him and he got her sandals, holding it with his hand.

Hermione could feel the rough texture of the sand against her feet and was a bit surprised when the cold water suddenly crept up to her. She instinctively took a step back and would have lost her balance if Harry hadn't caught her arm. He smiled at her pleased expression, which was so bright and childlike that he failed to notice that her arm was still latched at his. He gave her a slight smirk as he led her closer to the water, just enough until it touched her ankles, as they continued to walk by the shore.

"James, what are those little things over there?" she asked eagerly, and before he could even reply, she had already bent down to see for herself. "It's a jellyfish! Look!"

"Careful with those, some of them may sting," Harry said, bending down, "I don't want us to itch later on."

"Right." Hermione pulled away from him to look at the water more carefully, until she realized that her pants were already wet from all the water. She looked beside her and saw him crouched down as well, his eyes serious as he examined the waters. Curious, she stood up and walked towards him as he turned to face her with a wide grin.

"Look, I found a seashell," he said, giving the perfectly-shaped clamshell for her to examine.

"It's beautiful," she said, running a hand in the shell's interior. He realized she liked it so he decided to look for an even bigger and more beautiful shell.

The spent a good part of their time crouched and partly kneeling in the sand as the seawater brushed against them. Somehow, they were like children who were enjoying an afternoon on the beach. From time to time, they would stand up and eagerly share the treasures they uncovered under the sand, smiling and laughing.

That was until a child came splattering by the shore, hurling big splashes of water at them as he ran.

Harry pulled Hermione closer to him instinctively, thinking it to be some form of danger, until he saw the child merely running away from his friend. He heard them lightheartedly shouting at each other, their laughs echoing in his ears as he tried to figure out what they were saying.

Hermione, on the other hand, was slightly taken aback from the gesture as she felt his arms behind her back and her cheek against his shoulder. The splashing sound of the water as it drenched her surprised her as well, yet her mind was still hazy. She just stayed there, feeling slightly cold even as warmth crept up her cheeks. Harry seemed to have grasped the situation because he too, froze as his chin bumped into her head while he realized how close he had pulled her to himself, and in one abrupt motion, he let go. "Sorry."

Both of them were afraid to look at each other as they realized what just transpired. Hermione straightened up and leaned on her knees to give him some space.

"Oh… what?" she asked innocently as she looked at his odd expression but both of them were caught unprepared when the boy charged again, splashing seawater until Hermione had no choice but to duck…

…And fall straight into Harry's arms as he lay rigidly in the sand.

"Hey lovebirds, catch us if you can!"

She quickly stood up, recovering from what just happened faster than Harry had. He stayed dazed for a few more seconds, feeling the salt water touching his ears until he suddenly missed her warmth as she lay in his arms. Snapping out of his thoughts, Harry called her as he got up. But she was already entangled in a game of tag with the two kids, running around the water.

"James, save me!" Hermione shouted playfully as she ran from her pursuer, laughing. He caught up with her and joined the chase. They ran around not knowing who was pursuing who anymore, so she tried to drench all three with saltwater.

Soon, more people saw them playing around and they decided to join their game. Everyone, from timid wizards to talkative witches, started having fun in the waters, splashing and running from one another.

Without really thinking about it, Lily ran towards James when everyone was preoccupied with everything else. He saw her and opened his arms to welcome her compulsively, both laughing as the game continued. She stopped to catch her breath as she looked at him, her eyes still dancing with joy as she leaned on his strong frame.

"Who won?" he asked.

"I don't know. But it's definitely not you," she managed to say between her chuckles, "But that was fun."

She finally sighed and looked at the horizon, realizing the sun was already setting. "We really acted like children back there, didn't we?"

"I suppose," he said as he took in everything that happened. Never in his life had he seen her so joyful and vibrant before, without any worries lingering in her face. In those moments they spent, she was more like a young girl than a Ministry Official and he was also a boy rather than an Auror.

"So, this is how children and their families spend their time at the beach," she said thoughtfully, feeling a sense of contentment in her heart. "It really is an experience worth remembering."

Harry felt something tug in his heart at her words. It was as if he had given her something special this day, something that didn't involve any Dark Lords or worthless problems. Sure, the three of them had spent a few good times like these, but he couldn't deny that this… was special, for it was shared by only the two of them. "Yes… it is."

The two of them sat there, content at knowing that they were together in this little memory, as silence enveloped them. This time, it was comfortable, their hearts were at ease and both of them were happy. The sun began to set and soon the whole coast was enveloped in darkness and the stars started to appear as they twinkled merrily in the sky, while the sea breeze passed them by.

Sounds of activity could be heard nearby and silhouettes of orange light could be seen. Soon, people had gathered around a bonfire, sharing stories and roasting some food. Still, the two stayed there by the shore as both of them looked at the horizon, lost in their own sea of thoughts.

Harry looked at Hermione as she rested her head atop her folded knees. Her hair was framing her face and he did not get to see the expression she had.

"Are you cold?" he asked, as he noticed how she hugged herself. "I could get some towels."

"No, don't bother. Just stay with me for a while," she looked up to face him, smiling although she looked a bit tired. Idly, she took a seashell in her hand and clasped it tightly to her chest as she closed her eyes. "I am afraid, James…"

"Of what?" he asked concernedly, moving closer in hopes that he could comfort her.

"You and I, this place, my… memories of this place… what if it disappears as well?" she asked, suddenly sounding more vulnerable than ever, "What if… I forget?"

He had an urge to brush away her hair from her face, to tuck her in his arms and keep her safe. With a sigh, he gave her a warm smile, looking into her soulful chocolate eyes. "Er – I don't really know how to say this, but… what we have now will not be forgotten, we would remember it."

"But what if I forget? How would I remember that such a moment existed?" she asked. Her eyes were troubled and her voice was almost pleading that somehow pained him.

"I would remember," he said solemnly, reassuring her as he placed his hand on her shoulder. How could he possibly forget?

"But what if you forget?"

With a sigh, he looked back at the calm waves of the now dark sea, as it reflected the pale light of the moon. It would be hard to assure her that nothing would go wrong, that this, what they shared… was real.

He suddenly found himself reaching for his pockets and unexpectedly found some objects he had picked up earlier.

"There is something special we used to do as witches and wizards," he started, taking out the objects and letting the faint light reflect on them.

"Empty bottles?"

"There is this shallow stone with carved runes back in the Ministry. It is filled with silvery substance which floated like clouds."

"Clouds?" she asked, her interest suddenly captured by his story.

"Yes," He gave her a bottle and kept one for himself. "These clouds are collected memories of people, who remember these moments. Although sometimes, the memories were not pleasant, you know?"

"Oh," she said, as she clutched the bottle.

Slowly, Harry uncapped the bottle and checked if its insides were dry as he recalled how the spell goes, fetching his wand from his pocket. "If someday, we both forget, all we have to do is pour this in a pensieve. There, we will be able to see it, and our heart will surely remember what we felt."

"Then let's make a promise. Let's promise to indeed go back here, and always remember what happened today."

"Right," he said, smiling as he muttered the incantation and pressed the wand in his temple, extracting the memory. He did the same with Hermione and handed her the bottle. After which, they closed the lids at the same time, almost as if they were sealing their promise.

"Thank you, I really had fun," she grinned.

"Hey you two, come and join us for dinner!" Romulus called out, "Callum says you nearly wiped out all the villagers. They're all so very hungry!"

"All right Rom, we'll be there in a while," Hermione called as she tucked the bottle safely inside the pocket of her jeans.

"I guess we better go," Harry said, as he stood up from his seat.

"You almost look relieved there. Is it because you were saved from my cooking tonight?" she teased as he pulled her back to her feet.

"I did not mean it that way –"

He was so taken aback when he suddenly felt a light kiss on his cheek that he failed to realize that it was already over just as soon as it occurred. He didn't even get to see Hermione's playful expression as she sprinted off towards the bonfire or his own face as he gaped like a fish. He merely stayed there and touched his cheek where her lips had been.

"I promise I won't forget, Hermione," he mumbled, smiling when he realized what just occurred. No matter what happened, he wouldn't ever forget these feelings that welled up in his chest whenever he remembered her bright, chocolate eyes or her warm and sincere smile.

He would keep this safe, for this memory meant so much. This memory wouldn't merely be remembered with images or words… the fleeting kiss, the laughs and the sound of the water, they would be remembered by his heart.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Thoughts? Opinions? It doesn't hurt to review? What do you think will happen next? And where is Ronald Weasley? lol.


	10. Chapter 9: Selfish Wishes

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **I'm aliiiiiive! Sorry for the long wait folks, reality is very demanding these days so my BETA and I are having problems with our routine editing. Anyway, I'd like to thank you guys for the wonderful and awesome reviews! They made my day! Please continue sending me your opinions! Thank you also for all the favorites and story alerts! I am glad you are liking this story so far. :)

Special thanks to my awesome friend and BETA, **anitablakefan2007** for helping me bring this story to life! Thank you so much for all the hard work!

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**Chapter 9: Selfish Wishes**

_May I love you, may I be your shield_

_When no one can be found_

_May I lay you down_

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

"_Harry Potter is dead."_

Hermione heard the man's victorious voice swell through the grounds. She could not really see him, but could feel his presence, as if he could appear in front of her anytime.

"_He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him."_

No… that was not true, she thought, devastated. She could almost picture the smug look on the man's face.

"_We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."_

There were hushed murmurs and whispers all around her, but the darkness could only hide their faces as she struggled to see, refusing the words sink in.

"_No, it can't be…" _The voice was familiar… she could almost feel the despair that radiated from the words.

"_Don't believe him, Harry would never do that."_

"_Yeah, why should we believe him, I believe he's somewhere out there, trying to thwart You-Know-Who's plans."_

The people's voices rang in her ears as she stood there, but they were too hazy for her to understand. Time seemed to stop after the voice continued to repeat inside her head. It was familiar… so cold, frightening and… maniacal.

Suddenly, everything around her became hazy. She could hear a woman's terrible scream and another woman's hysterical laugh… could feel the people whizzing past her, in an attempt to see what was happening. Some people screamed and others cried, some tried to convince their comrades that it was a sick joke… but she could understand none.

"…_He was nothing but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him," _the cold voice continued.

His masked followers guffawed and rejoiced at their master's words, jeering at other people's despair. They threw all sorts of insults to the dead body and spat on his name.

"_He's a traitor, he is! Willing to save his skinny hide even if it meant sacrificing all of you!"_

"_The boy is nothing compared to the Dark Lord. He betrayed you all and sold you to the dogs!"_

"_All you should feel for him now is resentment. Bow down before the Dark Lord and maybe, death will be quick and easy."_

"_You see now? Your people died for him, but what did he do? Got himself killed trying to run away."_

She could feel despair looming over her at their words. Even her companions seemed too confused and anguished to even retaliate to all their taunts and mocks.

"_Why Harry?"_

She heard the voice once more. It felt so lonely… so very lonely.

Then the darkness faded away, and was replaced by new sets of images… an all too familiar man – who was usually warm and gentle… now seemed too withdrawn, his eyes downcast as he stared at the fireplace. The atmosphere felt very heavy as he looked at her with a hollow smile, the dark bags underneath his eyes now visible from the light. As their eyes met, she felt her heart wrenching in pain as she saw the deep sadness and despair that threatened to overwhelm him. She couldn't stand looking at him like that…

"_I look horrible, don't I?"_

"_Honestly, you really have a gift of underestimation. You don't look horrible, you look dead!" _She heard it again, that voice… and remembered the man's face… that wounded face…

"Harry!" she cried, jolting awake as cold sweat trickled down her face. She was shaking terribly as she remembered the scenes and realized she heard that voice many times. That voice… that familiar voice… it was hers.

She could feel her heart beating fast, too fast, and couldn't help but hug herself as fear and sadness enveloped her. _Harry_… she bent her head as tears cascaded down her face relentlessly… _He's dead… he's dead…_

Strong arms enveloped her form, pushing her head closer until it was comfortable in his chest. She continued to sob… until her shoulders shook horribly and breathing became a difficult feat.

"Sshhhh, it was a dream, it's just a dream," Harry whispered soothingly, his voice gentle against her ear… hearing these words, his kind voice in the middle of her despair, "It's all right, I'm here."

"I saw you … you're lying there… dead in someone's arms!" she managed to say in between her sobs, her voice muffled as she continued to rest her aching head in his strong chest. She could feel his comforting hands running trails down her back as he whispered words of comfort in her ears. "They said you betrayed us… that you deserved to die…"

"Shh… it's all right," he murmured once again, his voice deep yet gentle. He continued his ministrations, holding her closer as his cheek touched her temple.

"I'm still here… alive. It was all just a part of the past."

Hermione looked up at him and eyed him suspiciously, her eyes wide with realization as he told her that it was a memory. He knew that sooner or later, she would remember and he felt that he owed her this… that what she dreamt of really happened, once upon a time. He didn't really know why he wanted to open up to her now, after keeping everything that happened that lead to Voldemort's defeat to himself.

Soon, her breathing became easier and her head didn't throb painfully as it did before. Yet, her eyes remained closed and she felt tired… so tired… She felt gentle hands wiping away her tears as her head hit the pillow once more. She nuzzled to its warmth, enjoying the comfort she gained from his presence. She didn't even realize what was happening, her mind was too hazy… And before she could even miss the warmth she felt in his arms, another one replaced it as she felt the blanket getting pulled up to cover her from neck to toe. And darkness claimed her once more.

When she opened her eyes, the streams of the morning light were already cascading in the window of the small cottage. She blinked, not really quite sure of what had happened. Was it all a dream? In the middle of the darkness that had passed, Harry held her close. She could still feel his warm hands as he enveloped her… his touch as he wiped her tears… was it all part of a dream?

She tilted her head to the side and felt something warm slip off her forehead. Curious, she reached up and grabbed it, a damp cloth? Slowly, she sat up on the bed, the blanket falling down to her knees as she touched her head. What happened? She shook her head, but could not seem to remember what transpired. And when she looked at her surroundings, she noticed a basin and some vials of potions… and Harry.

He was sitting in a chair by her bed, holding another piece of cloth. His eyes were closed and his head was drooping to one side. His raven hair suddenly looked longer, tousled as it was and his chin looked a bit rougher, as unshaved whiskers started to grow. He looked unkempt… yet rather dashing. She moved from her bed and sat on its edge until she was directly beside his slouched form… and reached up for his hair. Without even realizing it, she stroked it, quite tentatively at first and when he did not stir, she brushed the stray locks away from his face and watched him as he slept. His hair was surprisingly soft, although it was always all over the place. She continued to stoke it, feeling comforted from the act.

Comfort. It was something she felt not too long ago. Could it have been a mere figment of her imagination? The way he held her tightly and murmured to her ears… the way he stroked her back to comfort her and the way his hands wiped away her tears… It felt so real.

Before she could start thinking about the dream, she looked around once more and examined the vials beside the basin. They were potion of some sorts… had she been sick?

It was all starting to make sense now, as her gaze wandered to the sleeping man. The other night… she had a wonderful time by the beach… the people of Rippleshack created a bonfire as they gathered together… there was singing… laughing and stories, the food was delicious. People around teased her and Harry as the warmth of the fire soothed her. She leaned her head on his shoulder, listening to the joyful singing in the background… And so, she stayed there as Harry continued to listen to the different stories… then she got drowsy… and… and… that was it.

She must have been sick… that may be the reason for her tiredness… her nightmares.

And Harry had been watching her the whole time.

She looked at him as he breathed in steady rhythms. He must have been up all night taking care of her; it made her smile at the thought. She felt her heart beat faster as she realized how thankful she was for him… for always being there. Instinctually, she reached for his face again and traced the scar across his forehead. At the gesture, she felt something ache from her heart… the lightning bolt-shaped scar, had it been there for a long time? She tried to imagine him without one, wondering how he would look like. Could she have possibly known and forgotten?

It did not matter, she thought. The flaw was oddly endearing, like it was a part of him that even her past-self acknowledged. She never realized how vulnerable he could be, and wondered how he could've gotten it. For her, Harry seemed so strong and invincible… but he was also human. His scar was a proof that he could be hurt too… and somehow, she understood that he also needed comforting, just as she did.

Would it be possible for her to move closer to him and envelop him in her embrace? Would it be possible for her to hold his hand and squeeze it without him flinching? The thoughts seemed too surreal that she shook it off her head.

Then… was she starting to like him?

With a sigh, she realized that it wasn't at all impossible… and she wouldn't be surprised if she did. He was not a man who was hard to like. He was strong, yet he was also gentle… he was brash, yet he always cared… and he always thought of her safety… and happiness… and duty.

His duty.

Maybe she was starting to be too comfortable as Lily that she had forgotten she was still Hermione Granger. How could she have forgotten? She knew she was an important figure in the Ministry, as the others told her and knew she had more things to think about. Surely she should not be thinking about something so trivial so as love?

Love? No, it couldn't even be love… it was out of the question! Yet, whatever it was, it was very comforting and pleasant… the way he smiled at her made her heart flutter… and the way he held her hand when he was teaching her how to cook sent chills down her spine… she was… happy here. In the short time they were together, Harry had made her very happy and contented. Even with all the awkward moments they shared… he always managed to make her smile… if she could only stay as Lily forever.

"Hermione!" he rasped, his voice hoarse with sleep. She was suddenly jarred away from her thoughts as she looked at Harry, who was already alert and awake. She was surprised when she felt his hand over her forehead, checking her temperature. She had no choice but to stay still and look up innocently at him as he fussed over her.

"Your fever is gone, but you still look flushed," he stammered. With a relieved sigh, Harry gave her a small smile as he stood up, reaching for another vial of potion.

He seemed paler than usual, Hermione thought. She must have really worried him… but if only he knew that the tint in her cheeks was caused by another reason.

"I'm feeling fine," she said, placing her hand over his arm, "Thank you…"

Harry looked away from her, scratching the back of his head as he felt something warm creeping on his cheeks. "I, er – sorry. You fell asleep last night and got a fever because you've been wearing damp clothes. Sorry, I should have –"

"It's all right."

"But er –"

She shook her head, staring at his startling emerald eyes, "It wasn't your fault." She stood up suddenly and embraced him, surprising the young man with her rather brave action. She didn't know what he was thinking right now, but his rigid form suddenly softened as he returned the embrace. She felt his hand settle at her waist, his chin on the crown of her head… she couldn't help but smile when she realized that he returned it. "Thank you."

Her touch was starting to be something he longed for. If this happened years ago, he wouldn't have the trouble of this rather new experience, for Hermione was his best friend… always was actually. He wouldn't have trouble holding her hand or returning her hug without eliciting his heart to flutter. But now, it was getting harder to find the strength to move away from her… resist her touch, to remember this place… to understand that this was all a game.

She couldn't even remember the disappointment in her life… the sadness Harry had always been a part of. He had been there… a significant figure that was associated with the deaths of those around him, he was the reason Voldemort killed his beloved's brother, the reason why she couldn't be truthful to her parents about what her life in Hogwarts actually entailed. The pain he caused her and Ron… albeit indirectly, was still something he couldn't let go. And although years already passed since then, he avoided every opportunity to talk about it. Sure, he was already moving on… happy that his life was finally having some sort of direction, but he was still partly to blame for all the pain he caused her – the reason why Harry thought that they somehow drifted apart when her memories were still there… but now…

Could she have possibly felt it? Could she have known about the feeling he had repressed?

"I –I'll go and make breakfast," he said, still a bit shaken from his thoughts. Hermione's hand slipped off his waist as he finally broke the hug and she smiled at him, letting it go. Soon she lied down in the bed once more and closed her eyes.

"Well, I'm not hungry yet. Why don't you rest for a while?" she said.

"All right, thanks," he replied, looking at her direction. He was starting to be comfortable with this lie, he had to get away.

With a heavy sigh, he opened the door quietly and stepped outside, walking back and forth on the porch until finally, his thoughts quieted and he heard the sound of the sea. With another sigh, he stopped and sat down on the chair.

It was only a game of charades, he thought bitterly. Soon, Hermione would remember everything and all of it will be gone – just another part of her past.

This illusion… this happiness… everything… it was all a lie. Everything but what his heart whispered.

He looked at the remnants of the bonfire and saw the burnt sticks that were dark in contrast to the white sand and the blue sky. Yet, he vividly remembered the colors it wielded the previous night… it was the flames that danced which brought them the light, it was the sky that enveloped them into the darkness.

He could still remember the place where he sat beside her, her head resting on his shoulder, could still remember the laughter and Callum's words.

"_So, James, what is your story?" _Callum started, his bright hazel eyes shining, _"How did you manage to find such a beauty? Lucky bastard!"_

He had fabricated a story… about two best friends who were always together, who finally realized what they meant to each other after years of denial. Maybe it was his wish, something he wanted to come true, his fantasy… but he knew it was too good to be true.

"_How did you know that you loved her?"_

It was the one question which continued to nag his mind. Eyes were focused on him as the waited with bated breath, friends and strangers alike wanted to know, wanted to find out how he fell in love. It was as if the comfortable circle casted some sort of spell, that even the darkest recesses of his heart suddenly opened for probing…

"_It was easy, actually, because she's my best friend. Ever since we were young, she was always there for me… the good times, the bad," _he started, trying to delve further in his mind to recapture those moments, _"It, er – just happened."_

That was how it was. When she was just Hermione and he was only a boy named Harry. In the middle of all the pain and suffering… she was there for him, to lift his hopes up and have faith in him when he couldn't.

"_I was grieving… I tried to push my friends away. But every day I would find her on my doorstep before she went to work, nagging me at first, before giving me a hug. It took me a while to realize what she meant to me, because I realized that it has always been there – like breathing."_

He would gladly give up everything if it meant having Hermione beside him in every waking moment of his life. He wanted to make her happy, keep her safe… make her live life to the fullest. Now that he had seen the other side of her, the one who always wore a carefree smile in her face as her bright chocolate eyes radiated in her being, he wanted to keep it.

"_I don't even want to think about a life without her."_

He loved her.

He wanted to stop it but he realized that it was already there, imprinted upon his heart. It was already a part of him, something that could never go away no matter how much he tried. _Like breathing_, he thought. Yet, he already knew the consequences of falling in love with her. He knew of the pain it would cause him – when everything in this world they created would come into an end. He knew it would not last, no matter how much he wished it would, that James would soon cease to exist and die, only to leave a part of him on Harry – the memory of this place, the realization that he fell in love with her.

When he received a letter from Pigwidgeon last night telling him how they finally developed a cure for Hermione's amnesia, he knew that this dream was about to end. He only wished that he could use James' life to full use to make her realize how much she actually meant and how she could live her life outside the four corners of her office. And most of all, he wished for her happiness.

For once in his life, Harry Potter wanted to be selfish as he prayed. He wished for a few more days… enough time to live this dream. If it really would come an end soon, then he wanted to make the most out of it, he was still unprepared to go back to reality.

He prayed for a few more days to be with her, to let her feel his love without telling her he loved her. Then, he would be glad to live his life in an empty shell – go back to his old lifestyle of working and taking care of his godson, thinking he had held something dear – something that could make him finally look forward to each night, when he could be himself, something stronger than his nightmares, a light that would finally envelop him in the darkness.

"_Well, that's it."_

_I love her_, he thought tenderly as his heart shouted it in the only way it could. Smiling at the realization, he closed his eyes.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: On the next chapter, the plot will be moving forward and we will finally see the other characters in the beloved series. Hold on to your seats my friends and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thoughts? Opinions? Review!


	11. Chapter 10: Once Upon a Time

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Hello there! Sorry it took me so long to update but here it is, finally. :) Thank you all for the never-ending support, btw, I'm so happy that this story is receiving positive reviews from people. There are more surprises to come, and also, more glimpse of the past. :D Please don't hesitate to send me your opinions, they help make me a better writer. :D

Also, I have to tell you all that this chapter is not BETA-ed... yet. My BETA and I are kinda busy right now. I've written this chapter a while back, but I kinda want to post the edited one but... I couldn't wait anymore. lol. Sorry for any mistakes you will be able to see. You can always come back to read it later once it is edited if you want. :D

* * *

**Chapter 10: Once Upon a Time**

_All that's made me, it's all worth trading_

_Just to have one moment with you_

_So I will let go of all that I know_

_Knowing that you're here with me_

_For your love is changing me_

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

_Hermione maneuvered her way from the familiar unkempt square, drawing a deep breath as she thought deeply of the choice of words she had to summon. She stood between number eleven and thirteen, thinking. The night was young but she knew he would be there… she would catch him, that was for sure… and then she would tell him a piece of her mind._

_Soon, the familiar, old, battered door emerged out of nowhere between the two houses, followed by the freshly cleaned windows and walls. But even though the house suddenly materialized, the unsuspecting muggles were still oblivious to it, as they continued what they were doing… some watching the telly leisurely, others eating dinner with their families. Hermione entered the house, not even bothering to knock as she maneuvered her way to the third floor, her purposeful stride drove her forward, as she opened the door into the familiar room that was now Harry Potter's._

_She hadn't seen the git for so long, and she still hadn't figured out why he didn't bother to attend the weekly Weasley dinners or answer the pile of letters she sent him… it drove her mad! And seeing that she wouldn't be seeing him anytime soon, she knew she had to take this into her own hands rather than wait for the damn fool to pop up after when he was ready._

_But when she entered the room, her anger melted at the sound of a toddler's squeal and a man's laugh. There was a sloshing of water, along with muffled voices. A smile played on her face after hearing the sound of her best friend's laugh, so she gripped the bathroom door and opened it… there stood Harry in his sleeping clothes, soaking wet and holding a water gun against Teddy Lupin, who was holding the showerhead. _

_The two of them fell silent when they noticed her by the door, their smiles disappearing from their faces as they faced her murderous eyes. Her arms were crossed as she tapped the floor with her feet. Harry dropped his gun immediately and cleared his throat as he stood up, but Teddy just stared at his Aunt and without even thinking, the little boy aimed the showerhead at Hermione._

_To say that she was shocked was a huge understatement as the stream of water continued to bombard her. At first, she was astounded from the mischievous streak Harry had passed to the boy, but seeing his bright eyes and ever changing hair at the notion of making her sopping wet, she decided to drop act as she tried her best to cover her face. And even when she already raised her hand in a gesture of defeat, the little boy continued to squeal in delight as water continued to pour down her, his godfather watched the whole exchange, laughing alongside the little boy._

_The three of them continued their game as Hermione hastily went besides Teddy to re-aim the direction of the showerhead to Harry, who was caught off guard. With that, another war began as Hermione allied with Teddy, leaving Harry alone to fend off for himself against the two of them. Their laughter filled the whole room, with an occasional squeal from Hermione as Harry aimed his wand at her face. Teddy kept giggling at the scene before him, changing his hair to a vibrant color every minute just to express the happiness he felt. He was glad his that his Uncle Harry and Aunt Hermione were having this much fun with him, because rarely did the house feel this alive._

_When all of them were out of breath from the ordeal, they sat down the tiled floor, chest heaving as the remains of their laugh reverberated in the corners of the room. In the years that had passed ever since the war, never before had Hermione joined this game with Teddy and his godfather, never before had she laughed this hard until she was out of breath… but nevertheless, it was something worth keeping._

_Later that night, as she decided to descend upon the stairs after putting a very exhausted Teddy to bed, Hermione stumbled upon Harry, cooking what she presumed to be dinner, if the aroma wasn't an indication. She quickly went beside him, smiling as she looked at his face._

_It had been a long time since she saw Harry's eyes bright with happiness. Sure, after the war, Harry still laughed and smiled with everyone… but at the end of the day, only she was able to see how the color drained from his eyes… only to be replaced with some form of sadness._

"_Can I help you prepare dinner, Mr. Potter?" she asked excitedly, getting an apron._

"_Er – of course, Ms. Granger, you can start cutting those carrots on the table into large chunks," Harry replied, smirking._

"_Am I right in assuming that you want to do this the muggle way then? You don't have your wand with you," she asked curiously, getting a knife and the chopping board before sitting down in a table to start chopping off the carrots. _

"_Why, yes of course. See, it will be an utter waste if I let the kitchenware I bought rot," he said playfully, looking at her from behind as he continued to pat down the beef on the kitchen paper._

"_Right. Brilliant then, I am glad that you still choose to do mundane chores like this," she replied, setting aside some chunks of carrots and putting them in a nearby bowl._

"_I do it when I have the time, you see. If Kreacher is still alive, he'll be horrified after hearing those words," Harry chuckled, imagining the old elf slapping his palm on his forehead. _

"_Mr. Potter, you should've told us. You know Ron would've loved to eat his fill of a good meal, especially if the aroma is delicious."_

"_More like swallow everything whole," he responded, adding a little humor at her words. It was true though, Ron didn't know how to eat like a proper gentleman, even after all of these years._

_Satisfied with her work, Hermione handed over the bowl of carrots to Harry who was putting a large piece of steak in a casserole. As he graciously accepted the bowl, he started examining her handy work. "Why, Ms. Granger, your skills with the knife are starting to improve," he said playfully, causing Hermione to punch him in the arm._

"_I always thought my skills with the knife are quite good. So if you want to save your life, don't make unnecessary remarks that states otherwise."_

_Harry laughed at her. "All right," he said, cutting out some pieces of onions and placing then neatly in a bowl. Hermione observed him as he worked. In the times that she knew Harry, there were only quite a few scenes when she saw him cook. She knew he was good at it, because living with the Dursleys strengthened his affinities to mundane chores… but never before had she observed how graceful and neat he was with his work. _

_She observed how he cut the baby onions into small pieces, setting them aside when he was finished. Then, he looked at the casserole and removed the steak, placing the onions in its place. He handed her a knife, smiling as he cut the steak into two pieces. "Let's make them into small cubes, and then we can proceed to the actual cooking." _

_Hermione obliged at his request, her mind set in the task at hand. It had been a while since she last cooked a meal. After the war, she devoted herself into finishing school and finding work that she barely had time to spend in the flat she bought, except when she cleaned it. Being with Ron also meant that she had to attend Weasley dinners… and when work took up her time, she always bought food outside. _

_They remained silent for a while, the only sound that was to be heard was when the knives collided with the chopping boards. Both of them were content with this… they learned to take comfort in each other's silence a long time ago, basking in the presence of the other. Words were not needed in their relationship, for looking at one's eyes would say it all._

_When they finished their tasks, Harry carefully put pieces of barley in the casserole, guiding Hermione's hand into the stirring the contents of the pot. "You have to stir it clockwise, see? Yes, nice and gentle, yes, that's it."_

_Hermione did what she was told as Harry returned the chunks of beef into the casserole. When it was already simmering, she nudged Harry, who poured sauce into the mixture, adding bay leaves and some sprig of thyme while seasoning it with salt and pepper. _

"_Well, we're almost finished, Hermione. See, it's just like brewing a potion!" he said brightly, pouring the contents of the pot into a container._

"_Hmp! Brewing a potion is a lot easier than this," she replied, eyes shining with anticipation as she watched Harry work. He resisted the urge to chuckle at her words, continuing his work._

"_If you say so. Now we can put it in the oven. I'll teach you how to prepare it," he said triumphantly, dragging Hermione into another part of the kitchen._

_The two of them spent another hour cooking under Harry's instructions. Never before did Hermione enjoy it, for it had been a long time since she cooked a decent, er – meal. She always had trouble with it, even though she could make a perfectly brewed potion. And Harry had been a perfect gentleman, coaching her with what she had to do patiently, and smiling in her every success. _

_And at the end of the day, she knew it was the best meal she ever tasted… because it was the first time in years that she saw Harry open up to her again._

* * *

The weather was calm and soothing, as it usually was in Rippleshack. Hermione tugged on the makeshift scarf she had around her neck to feel the breeze even more. She vividly remembered how Harry wrapped it around her earlier… scratching the back of his head as he told her that he didn't want her to have a cold. She wanted to laugh at him for being such a mother hen, yet she saw the concern in his eyes and it did nothing but make her heart swell.

"Lily, are you even listening?" she heard a man's voice beside her, suddenly snapping her out of her reverie.

"I'm sorry, what was that again?" she smiled apologetically to her current companion, Locke, or at least that was how he was called in the coast, because after he lost his memories while trying to run away from someone, all he could remember was trying to find a lock. She had been talking to him a lot recently, hoping to get her memories back, yet later on, she realized she had been doing so to pass time, and not really for her memories' sake. Maybe it was because she really didn't want to remember…

"Ack, don't bother about it. Callum was right, you truly act like a newlywed. I can see that tint in your cheeks, you're thinking about James again, aren't you?" he muttered, feigning annoyance when he was obviously teasing her.

"Well, we are newlyweds… sort of," she grinned, remembering how baffled Harry was when she told him of their supposed arrangements. At first, she was not used to it too, yet now that everyone seemed to be fond of teasing them for their supposed newfound love, it came almost naturally. Perhaps it was because it was partly true…

"Tss… love," he sighed, leaning back on the boulder as he looked up at the sky. "You know what, despite losing all my memories, I feel like I can somehow relate with you. I fell something in my heart… something… no, someone important is missing. But there is no face… no voice… just a feeling of tenderness. That's why I know I have to go back to London."

She was suddenly struck by what he said. Feelings… feelings could not be forgotten? Maybe… maybe he was right, if the feeling he held onto was too strong… too great before he lost his memories, maybe he would remember the feelings he had. Perhaps if it is truly something he did not want to forget, maybe his heart would really remember.

"I think she's waiting for you… somewhere out there," she said, hoping to comfort the man. "If the feeling was so great that your heart remembered it, maybe she will be able to feel it."

"Maybe… I just hope she waits enough until I get enough galleons to go back. I hope she's waiting for me," he said, throwing a rock towards the sand. "But you know what? I'm starting to remember some things. A house near a store… and a woman."

"How did you? Did it just come back?" she asked, quite interested.

"Yeah, I suppose. I mean, whenever I sleep, I remember something vague. And whenever I wake up and think of it, I realized that as time passed and the dreams came by, things started to make more sense. That woman… she always waited for me at that house."

Dreams… her dreams hadn't been good as of late and if what Harry said last time was an indication, maybe these were all a part of her past. They were always filled with war… a woman screaming, a jet of green light followed by a sinister laugh… someone crying. Perhaps she refused to remember in the first place after all. Could her memories be that bad that she purposely tried to avoid remembering them? Or perhaps it was because of how she currently lived in the present? Perhaps… she was more than content of her life now…

"But I suppose there really are things that cannot be forgotten. Like that blasted lock. If I haven't been running away at that time, maybe it may have given me more clues. I suppose when I see something that really matters, I'll remember."

"You're right, Locke," she said, touching the man's shoulder for comfort, "You'll remember soon." She felt sorry for the man; after all, they had the same plight.

"Thanks Lily," he said, smiling a little, "Only a little more and I finally will get to see her again. I am a bit grateful that the Ministry is now helping werewolves, thanks to Harry Potter. So it will be easier for me to move around London."

"Harry Potter?"

"Yeah, that bloke who defeated the Dark Lord. He's a very famous wizard and one day, I would like to see him personally. For someone who lost a lot in the war, he was someone who remained strong."

Hermione's jaw suddenly dropped. She had been living with him for months now, but never did she hear him mention about this in all his stories. She knew about the war, knew that she had been a part of it but never did anyone bother to tell her about the details. Because of Locke's sudden revelation, she didn't know if she should feel disappointed… all she knew was that she needed to find out more. That dream she had… no, that memory… it was about Harry.

"Haven't you heard of him?" asked Locke, who was a little flabbergasted at her.

"Well, not really. I know he's famous, though," she replied, biting her lip.

"Well, he's called the boy-who-lived, surely you know that?" he paused, looking back at her, "And he had been fighting the Dark Lord all his life. Poor bloke lost his parents during the first war, and he also lost some of his loved ones during the last one."

"Oh." So, that was the reason why Harry never dared explain more about his parents, Hermione thought. For some reason, her disappointment turned into sadness at what she found out… she wanted to go to him right and hug him tight, to tell him she would always be here for him. Somehow, she felt that she also wanted him to be happy, really happy, like what he wanted for her.

"Oh well, I guess I'd better head out now. I'm tagging along with Callum today, help with the tavern and all."

"Thank you, Locke," she replied as she stood up and watched him walk away. After a few moments, she turned around, sighed, and looked towards the calm sea.

Harry was making his way uphill when he saw the look of sadness in her eyes. She stood there in the small sandy knoll, looking at a far away direction yet it was clear that she was thinking of something else. If only he could comfort her right now…

Hermione looked towards his direction and saw him, and her face brightened up in an instant. She smiled, a subtle smile at first, yet her smile widened and once more, he saw that smile he always wanted to see.

"James," she called, as she waved her hands gaily. It was his cue to pick up his pace and get closer to her, his smile growing into a grin when he finally reached her.

"What took you so long?" she teased, nudging him on the ribs.

"Er – I tried to help Callum and Romulus fix a hole in the tavern," he smiled apologetically, scratching the back of his head.

"Oh, so how did it go?" she asked.

"Well, we were able to fix it up, but after we got off the roof, Rom created another hole so we had to do it all over again," he said enthusiastically, smiling as he recalled the look on Romulus' face when he fell.

"I hope he's okay," she replied, smiling as she lightly stroked his hair. "I think you need to get your hair cut soon."

Harry looked at her remembered the time when she told him the same thing, except that she said he shouldn't let her cut his hair again… but then, he noticed the distant look in her eyes and his smile disappeared as worry started to gnaw him, "Is there something wrong?"

Hermione sighed and gave him a smile, shifting her feet as she gathered her courage. "Nothing, I just talked with Locke today."

"What did he tell you?" he asked, curious about what Locke might've said that would make Hermione sad. After all, they both lost their memories.

"Well, he told me about how he got here and how he seemed to remember a girl waiting for him back home… then he told me about you."

He was surprised that Locke told her about him. Panic filled him inside, what if Locke found out that he was Harry Potter and told everyone about him? What if he realized his true identity? He pointed his finger on himself and stuttered, "M – me?"

"He mentioned… about the war," she said reluctantly, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Oh, that," he said, stopping his hand that tried to reach her in mid-air, retreating them back to his sides. He tried to clear his throat, running a hand through his hair. Hermione looked at him in the eye and stepped forward, grazing her hand in his cheek.

"Why didn't you tell me about it? Is it the reason why you are always so withdrawn?" she asked with sadness welling up inside her. If only she remembered her past, then maybe she might be of more use to Harry now…

Harry scratched the back of his head, releasing a sound between a chuckle and a choke as he refused to meet her gaze. "I, er – I didn't think it was necessary to tell you, especially when you have enough trouble on your plate."

Hermione reached out to him and this time, she let her hand linger on his cheek as she tried to meet his gaze, "It is important to _me_."

"Don't worry about it, it's nothing."

"It is _something_. Please, don't keep it all to yourself. I may have lost my memory but I care about you… I don't want to see you sad."

She knew how Harry would often toss and turn in his sleep… and it may be the reason why he always tried to sleep hours after she had. She knew that there were times when he had this distant look in his eyes, that somehow, even his biggest smile was tainted with sadness. There were times when she didn't ask, yet she always tried to make him laugh to distract him… if only for a while. "… I am still here."

For once, Harry's eyes brimmed with tears after hearing those words that he hugged her tight. He remembered how Hermione was always there for him, even when he already tried to push her away. And hearing those words made him realize that she had always been there… always the one who never left him… in that moment, all his reservations were gone, for he realized that he never wanted to let her go. Here was the girl who made him smile the widest, the one who made him do silly things… the one who made him feel alive. "I'm very sorry, _Hermione_. I'm so sorry for always keeping you in the dark."

Hermione returned his gesture and kept him close, relishing the feeling of being safe in his strong arms. She realized that time seemed to pass by without them knowing… for she never did realize how much time it had been since they got here. All she knew was that she was content… happy. In that moment, she felt as if for the first time, Harry opened up to her in a way that was only reserved for her. "Don't be. We all have those moments."

When Harry broke the hug, she immediately wiped his tears with her thumb and he smiled, stopping her hand and squeezing it. "Once upon a time," he started, smiling as he stared into her deep, soulful eyes, "a girl once said those words to me. She always scolded me for being such a troublemaker, but she still followed me… from riding hippogriffs to destroying dark lords, she helped keep me sane through it all. And you know what the best part is?"

"What?" Hermione asked, smiling as Harry enveloped her in his hug again.

"She's still here."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Thoughts? Please don't forget to click the little button. :) For the next chapter, Ron and Ginny will finally show up.


	12. Chapter 11: Just Harry

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Sorry for the long wait! Really busy at school at the moment. Thank you everyone for the support and the opinions you gave, they make me strive to become better. This post is unBETA-ed for now, until my BETAs manage to find some time. Sorry for all the trouble! Please don't forget to review! :)

* * *

**Chapter 11 – Just Harry**

_Watch your step, love is broken_

_I am every tear you cry_

_Save your breath, your heart has spoken_

_You already have my life_

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

Harry was sitting on the front porch of the cottage, waiting for Hermione, who had taken a leisurely walk around the market of Rippleshack. It has already been more than a month since they came here, but it made a huge impact on his life.

A month ago, he would've been panicked to leave Hermione alone, even if she only wanted to do some shopping… or spend some me-time somewhere. But their stay in this village actually made him see things in a different perspective – he learned to trust people a little more and to open up his heart. As he stared into the horizon, the memories of this place kept coming back to him. It seemed as only yesterday when they arrived… it wasn't that good of a start, but he never expected that he would learn to live life like this… see things in a new perspective where everything seemed simple… but one that made you happy.

His lips formed a small smile when he stood up to wave at the figure which was slowly approaching him and he hopped off the porch and walked briskly towards her.

Who would ever think that he would learn new things because of this experience? He never thought he would get to open up his eyes and realize just how much his best friend meant to him. The things he never noticed before… how happy and excited she was when he asked about her hobby and how he actually found it enjoyable to read a book… how her eyes lighted up when they were both do mundane things like walking in the shore… how she concentrated when he taught her something new… they all made him happy, but the best thing that made his heart flutter was when she smiled…

As he approached her, he could still remember how grateful he was of her after all these years. Even after the war was over, she still kept him sane… helped him move forward. When she knew he was being stubborn, she helped him understand the situation and see things in another life. She was his rock… his best friend… the one person who made him smile a lot and appreciate what he had.

Yet his thoughts were interrupted and he was caught off guard when he realized something wrong. Two figures were suddenly behind her, and she turned abruptly to face them when she realized Harry's guarded appearance.

He ran as fast as he could when he saw one man pushing his hood aside, fear gnawing up his insides as he thought of the danger that could be incorporated with them. But as he drew his wand to mutter a spell, a familiar face revealed itself.

Hermione looked frozen from where he stood at first, her eyes betraying the fear that suddenly erupted because of the appearance of the two figures, until the man seemed to unfold before her.

Familiar ginger locks were suddenly revealed and soon, the man's face broke into a smile as the other figure went beside him, still hidden behind the hood.

"Ron!" she shouted, practically leaping up to his neck as he held him in a tight embrace. She clung to him like a child, her smile breaking out into a grin. It was too heartwarming to see… too…

_Painful_… as he realized what was happening. It seemed odd to see her in someone else's arms. She held onto him tightly, in a warm way that he could almost imagine that huge smile in her face, and the possible tears of joy that he could imagine to be trickling down her cheeks.

"Woah, Hermione. You really _are_ sick," Ron mumbled jokingly as he awkwardly returned her hug.

"Nice to see that you are well, Harry," the other cloaked figure spoke, and Harry barely heard it as he tried to figure out what was happening at the moment. "Oh please Ron, don't take advantage of Hermione's vulnerability."

"Sorry Gin. I was just happy to see both of them," Ron grinned, scratching the back of his head and was surprised then he heard Hermione sniffling in his arms.

"Harry was right, you didn't die," she managed to say in between breaths. "I'm so happy to see you again, sorry for pouncing on you like that."

"Died? Pounced? Merlin Harry –" but Ron never got to finish what he wanted to say when Ginny poked him hard on the ribs, stopping him from making any more comments.

Harry remained as still as he could be, not really knowing what he should do. He kept his mouth shut, listening to his erratic heartbeat as he tried to calm himself.

"Hello Hermione, I'm glad that you finally remembered some things," Ginny said as she pulled down her cloak to reveal her usual features – fiery red hair and a smile that could smite thousands of boys. Hermione beamed at her that Ginny was glad to see her so cheery… and glowing. Perhaps Harry had been a good nanny after all.

She looked further to where Harry stood as she noticed a part of the reunion that seemed far away. He must've been shocked from Hermione's outburst a while ago… or was it something else she saw in his eyes?

"I'm glad to see you, mate," Ron said, breaking the hug and punching Harry playfully in the arm.

"Er – nice to see you too, Ron," Harry said, grinning as he retaliated the action, causing Ron to flinch.

Hermione grinned at the exchange between the two. Ron was the same as always that it surprised her how much she was able to remember about him, including his sarcastic humor and his never-ending appetite for food. Maybe… he was truly important to her, because Harry somehow seemed to be fond of him too.

"Seems like you've been doing well, Hermione," Ginny said kindly as she placed her arm over her shoulders, "I'm glad to see that you've been smiling loads."

"Thanks," she said, trying to remember something about Ginny and feeling a bit sorry that she couldn't. She knew they may have shared some time together, and from the looks of it, she could be one of her close friends… but her mind was currently blank, "I'm quite happy in this place, as Lily."

"Lily?" Ron asked, looking at her like she sprouted horns.

"Yes, Lily. A Healer in St. Mungo's who took a vacation here."

Ron chuckled, thinking that this… Hermione was very different, more positive and cheerier than usual. "So you and Harry disguised yourselves using other names? Brilliant scheme," he said, going closer to her.

"Yes, let's go inside the cottage, then we'll talk," Hermione offered when she saw some villagers looking their way.

"Brilliant, is there any food around?" Ron asked jovially, taking Hermione's hand. Ginny shook her head as she sighed, thinking that Ron sometimes was a shameless glutton. She started following the two and looked at her side when she noticed Harry's tense form, seemingly agitated as he awkwardly started walking. She was about to talk to him when he suddenly spoke.

"Ron, there's something else you need to know," he started, his voice somehow a little impatient to Ginny's eyes.

"What is it mate?" Ron asked, the laughter in his voice radiating as he stopped to look behind him.

"Here… Lily is my wife."

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt never thought that his credibility was his most valued asset. After being the Minister for six years now, he did not think this was what he was known for. For once, he had made so many campaigns throughout his reign as the Minister of Magic, including banning the use of Dementors as guards in Azkaban prison, building a school for children who were not old enough to go to Hogwarts, reshuffling the Ministry thoroughly, capturing Death Eaters that eluded the Ministry and becoming an instrument in repairing the wizarding world after Voldermort's reign. Overall, he had been successful, an asset to wizarding Britain… but still, he never thought that there would come a day when he would have to make false statements in the Ministry again, after his successful attempt to letting them believe that Sirius Black is in Tibet… and actually get away with it.

He only wished that the lies he said the previous month would not cause too much harm for he knew that a lie was still that… a lie. However, what he said recently was not entirely incorrect this time around. He merely wanted to guard his subjects and make sure they were safe, and told the people who were worthy enough that both of them were assigned to investigate Death Eater activity in France.

Of course, he had to utilize his force to make it appear as if they were visible in some parts of France too, using Polyjuice and spells both to confuse the supposed enemy and to assure their friends and families that they were safe.

Keeping information, disseminating it and controlling it truly were a draining task, and he suddenly felt older than he actually was. Somehow, the thought disturbed him as he pondered more on it. The two people he thought would end up together, long before they were his subjects, were now actually together, freely together, now together to reassure each other that they both truly still existed. The thought nagged him quite a lot as of late, and it intrigued him so much that he actually wrote about it in his journal. Yet what bothered him more was the news he just recently received.

Perhaps his _spy_ had been merely mislead… and read the signs wrongly. He, after all didn't know as much as he did. Yet the Minister's curiosity was aptly ensnared. He never really liked to meddle… but his conscience… and the ghosts of his friends (including Lily and James Potter) have been nagging him to know more about these ... developments. He was personally intrigued by it too, for both the people involved, were close to his heart.

Of course he knew Harry as well – and somehow a strange kind of bond was formed between them after all that had happened in the past. To think one man had sacrificed himself – his whole being just for the good of the people, and that he, as an Auror, was there to see it all. The Minister felt puny compared to the Auror for the vastness of the latter's commission. Surely his verbal concoctions were nothing compared to what the Auror was willing to do to save the world.

It was starting to make some sense. The Auror was no saint after all; he merely had a worldly motivation that was strong enough to make him act the way he did… and for a person who suffered a lot as a child… he still knew how to love a lot. The Minister was told of how much the man seemed to _enjoy_ his best friend's company as they pretended to be husband and wife back in the coast. Perhaps the fleeting exhilaration the Auror might have felt in his heart was his _only_ _reward_ for his burdensome sacrifice.

And now the plot thickens.

He set aside the report he just read and got the journal from his desk. It simply was getting more complex. Still, such petty thoughts were nothing compared to the actual, deeper and frightening events that were currently occurring in the background.

Conspiracies. Revenge. Power.

These were themes that were too common for him now. Yet this new villain had a motive he had seen before - utter destruction. The new force building up now, based on what they know so far; did not care about personal greatness or immortality like Voldemort did... they did not even care about the living, they were consumed with hatred and vengeance.

He truly was getting old for this kind of job. Yet retiring was out of the question. Not when there was still too much of Britain to see, when there were more faces of it that he has yet to analyze – when more events are yet to unfold before his eyes.

All he could do now is put his trust back on the group that once saved this land.

And perhaps he could also depend on a new force, a blossoming feeling, so profound that he could not fully grasp it.

"…_could something purely good vanquish it completely?"_

* * *

"Okay, now, I want to make a toast to Lily and James. May they be blessed with more love and happiness," Romulus' voice chirped, followed by an odd sounding hiccup.

"Cheers!" Harry heard the different villagers rejoice around the bonfire. He knew he was smiling as well, as he felt the slight, almost painful twitch in the corners of his cheeks. It was the least he could do to liven up the atmosphere in contrast to what he felt inside. He felt taps on his back and he nodded gratefully to them as he motioned across him and saw his supposed wife smiling brightly as well. He could not believe that it was only nights ago that she sat beside him, with her head resting on his shoulder, getting comfort, looking content.

So deep was he on his thoughts that he did not notice Callum pour another helping of wine on his glass. He only realized that the cup was filled with the dreaded fluid once more when Romulus spoke, "I also want to make a toast. To Lily's _dear brother_, we hope he gets to go on more escapades with the ladies so he can leave his _sister_ alone… So poor James here can finally get some!"

Harry heard a subtle choke until a chorus of laughter erupted. He chuckled, pushing the liquid down his throat as he tried to see the humor in it all. He glanced at his mate and noticed his part-grimace and part-smile and saw it. "Stop teasing my _brother-in-law_."

Then he heard the other man clear his throat, "I am sure _brother-in-law_ has already _gotten_ _quite a lot_. I don't want my ears to bleed." With that he glared at Harry – an action not missed by his quiet sister.

Hermione frowned, completely clueless about the exchange between the two men, as she heard the phrase once more. Was she so stupid that she still cannot grasp what it meant? She was surprised when Ginny suddenly nudged her and smiled, offering her a plate of food.

"Don't mind them, they're too drunk to even notice the difference between the mouth and the brain," she said knowingly, mirth evident in her eyes.

She nodded, glancing at Harry and suddenly feeling quite strange. She couldn't remember seeing him this openly cheerful before. Maybe Ginny's words held more truth than she thought? She always pictured Harry to be a man without any vices, and she never considered thinking of him in a drunken state. She wondered if he truly could be carried away. She doubted it after a while, realizing he was not foolish – he perfectly knew that they would be leaving the first thing in the morning. That's why Ginny and Ron came to the coast in the first place. They were there to pick them up. They were to bring her to the supposed cure.

If everything goes well, she would remember everything. After which, she would return to London. Everything would be back in its place just as James would be back to where he belonged. No… he would no longer be James… he'd be Harry once more, and he would don that façade… his gentle, emerald eyes would become unreadable again.

But maybe, she would not be as lonely. She would remember the Weasleys, Luna, Neville and Kingsley. She would remember Ron completely and that he was alive and well. She would look back to this place, this camp, this bonfire, this crowd. She would remember his smile… his smile…

"I can't say I won't miss you guys, or else I'd be lying," Callum spoke as he let his glass touch Harry's unmoving ones as he held it firmly in his hand. "After that day you saved my skin… You've earned my respect – and the village's respect as well. When I saw the two of you talking, running around like children, I… somehow felt happy for you."

Harry gazed away from the fire for an instant and looked at the man beside him. He still had a hint of a smile, yet his eyes were narrowed once more, looking serious, almost lonely.

Harry's lack of response did not deter him from talking. "The other people I've met… most of them were just passing by. Not like you. The two of you seemed to make this place your true destination. It was as if, in the few weeks that you stayed here, you made it something like a home, something you can go back to," Callum chuckled as he took another gulp from his glass, "it's rare to find other people like that – other people like me. This place has been like home for me."

A home. He thought himself naïve when he remembered the childish thoughts in his head… In his mind, he often saw a house, warm and quaint – a family waiting for him, a wife welcoming him from the day's work… children… running around dropping their toys the instant they saw their father. Hogwarts… Privet Drive… they were very different… the cottage by the sea was different too. It was no home. Though it looked like one, it was just a hideout. It was nothing but a façade.

"You're still young too, Callum, go find yourself a wife. Settle down," the words suddenly flowed out of his mouth. It was the very same words uttered to him by his superior officer, not too long ago.

"Settle down, Ha!" the man laughed as he grabbed the bottle of wine and poured more on his glass, "that is not the life for me. My doesn't need a – a wife, I feel content with what I have."

_I envy you_, he wanted to say, yet he remained quiet as he watched the dancing fires before him. He was starting to want … starting to ask for too much. He told himself to forget these childish thoughts long ago… yet, why did he start thinking about it now?

"But I wish you luck, mate. I suppose you are luckier than I,"

"What makes you say that?"

Callum shook his head for a while and debated on whether or not he should say his thoughts out loud. "Well… see, I have been attached to this place for so long, after I stumbled upon it during the last war," he stopped for a while as he laughed yet Harry remained quiet as he listened to the story, "Anyway, my point is that, I often leave and go search for something I do not know … and my only consolation when I end up with nothing is that I can go back to this place I call my home – this home that let me be," he stopped and looked around him, seeing the laughing, dancing and hearing the noise around him, "You two… well, it seems like you can go anywhere yet all you have to do is remember each other and just like that, you have a home… you are complete."

Think of each other… it was no home. All he would be able to think about is how far away she was from his grasp – and how he would be incapable of doing anything.

"But for what it's worth, in case you decide to come back here, we'll always welcome you… or if you get into any sort of trouble… well, I know you're much more capable than I in handling it, but I still owe you one. You saved my life back then and I'd gladly return the favor…"

"Thank you, Callum," Harry replied solemnly, his voice a bit gruff with alcohol, or at least that was what the other man thought. He smiled back.

"Well, now that I've gotten that out of my chest, I must say, James, you better go to your _wife_," Callum grinned, suddenly looking much younger than he truly was.

Harry glanced at her then, and saw that her expression was still as cheerful. Her gaze was fully focused on Ron, who he seemed to be narrating something extraordinary to her. He then wondered if she enjoyed his stories as much as she enjoyed his. His face darkened a bit, and he was suddenly uncharacteristically moody. It must have been the firewhiskey, it was starting to toy with his head. "She's still absorbed in her _brother's_ tale, I don't want to bother their reunion."

"Oh, but she had been glancing here from time to –"

"I haven't noticed."

Callum shook his head as the events unfolded before him. "Stop acting like a child, or else he'd steal her away from you."

He looked sharply at the man beside him then, surprised at his words, yet expecting them. Odd.

"Come on James, it's obvious that they're not related!" Callum exclaimed, hoping to kid yet ending up not getting a positive reaction from him. "I promise not to tell alright? It's just that… I've noticed him from somewhere…"

Harry silently berated himself for his foolishness. He didn't want to blow up their cover, not now. "He's someone dear to her," he sighed, almost resignedly, "he's also my best friend."

Callum bit back whatever he was going to say wryly, noticing the forlorn look the man beside him had. It was his mind that needed easing, he thought. He could either blame Harry's change of demeanor on the man or on the curiously strong alcohol. Where was the couple he believed so much in? Where were the sparks he often saw? A bit frustrated, he stood up and messed his hair. He then walked casually behind the three people seated across them and paced back and forth

Harry watched the man with slight amusement, not really knowing what he was planning. He was unprepared when Callum suddenly bent down, whispered something to Ginny, causing her to suddenly have a quizzical expression on her face. He then saw her tilt her head slightly and seconds after, she stood up, extending her arm to the host of the camp as if she actually accepted… an invitation to dance? Mere seconds later, they were already at the other side of the bonfire, joining the happy crowd, looking hesitant as to how to go about the task. Yet soon Callum smiled that boyish smile of his once more, and it seemed like the two finally got into the rhythm. Suddenly, he was rid of all his thoughts as he just observed the girl – and Harry was left with no choice but to gaze back at the people across him once more.

Now there were only two of them – his best friends – and they seemed momentarily entranced as he was. He wearily stood up from his seat and approached them.

He sat down carefully beside Ron, without even uttering a word, noticing that his neck was still craned and eager to see what was happening in the dancing area. He merely sighed once more, thinking about Callum's foolishness and still not getting over Ginny's candidness that he actually managed to let out a chuckle.

"You would break your neck if you continue to stare like that," he said, his voice deep and serious.

"Who is he? That's my sister out there!" Ron frowned, having a hard time cloaking his annoyance.

"_Honestly_! Callum, he's a friend of ours, he helped us settle down here," Harry finally heard Hermione speak as she addressed the now brunette, up close for the first time that evening. Her tone was soft and playful, and instead of eliciting something pleasant from his heart, it resulted to another feeling altogether.

He really was jealous, and he knew it.

He knew he was being irrational – and Callum was right. He was being too immature. All these years spent on earth seemed to amount to nothing after what he had felt that whole night.

"Why don't you join them?" he suggested, sounding almost happy, but mostly for himself as he realized he still actually had it in him to say the words out loud.

"Join them? Are you mad?" Ron muttered, tugging on his fake mustache as he suddenly felt itch in his skin.

"Ginny seems to be popular with the men, doesn't she?" Hermione commented offhandedly, noticing the line that suddenly trailed behind the other dancers. "She seems to be good in holding up on her own." She started to feel slightly envious after seeing the other woman's independence. "I wish I can dance like that."

"Oh? I still remember how you danced with Krum," Ron replied, not losing his wind, until his back stiffened once more, "Although… I know you don't remember. Sorry."

Ron suddenly looked helpless, scratching the back of his head, ashamed of how he just acted. "Mate, maybe you can teach her how to dance again," When he finally got up, he couldn't believe that Ginny just did what he think she did…

"Sorry, mate. Dancing is definitely not one of my talents," Harry looked up at Ron, remembering how awkward it was when he danced with Hermione all those years ago. First, when she taught him to dance for the Yule Ball… those times they shared and how they laughed when he made a mistake, and lastly, that time in the tent when he realized how her eyes shined when they danced. At first, he was hesitant to do it, because he didn't know what she would think. But he remembered that song… that song which they played during one of his dance lessons with her, it gave him courage enough to try it because somehow, he just wanted to see her smile again.

"Well, all right… I'll just check on Ginny."

And just like that they were left alone. Together. Just Hermione and he.

He set his drinking cup aside and sat more loosely, leaning back to see the stars. He wanted to close his eyes but stopped himself from doing so, knowing it would only deepen his thoughts. Yet it was becoming harder for him to look at her when she was so close, especially after remembering all the things they have done in the past few weeks – after realizing how much he had bared and how much she has taken from his heart.

"Is everything all right?" the tone she used as she talked to him was different from the tone she used with Ron. "You seem to look a bit flustered…" and when he heard her voice again, he felt all his anger and jealousy get washed away.

She reached up to touch his face and he fell back, looking almost as if he had evaded an attack, "Sorry. It must be the firewhiskey. It's getting warmer here…"

She looked confused at first yet when their eyes finally made contact, she smiled once more. "Then come, let's walk by the shore," she said as she offered her hand invitingly.

Harry took her hand reluctantly, barely holding her at first, yet finally succumbing to her touch until he almost clutched her hand.

How many days and nights had it been, when they walked by the shore as they did at that moment? Surely the experience might have been unique to them. Now that they were together, with the calm waves and the clear sky as their only witness, he felt everything fade into the background. There seemed to be no festivity going on, there were no villagers, no bonfire, no comrades, no Ron. It was just the two of them. For once that night he was finally calm. His rumbling heart was quiet though still admittedly apprehensive. It was because he knew –in these moments his heart and mind struggle, and his heart had been winning.

He glanced at the woman beside him, and noticed how her smile faded and was now replaced by a frown. Did she actually prefer someone else's company? Was his heart being overbearing? Did he need to let go?

"Do you think… the cure might work?" Hermione asked, her voice barely a whisper. He felt the fear in her voice that he squeezed her hand to comfort her.

Her trepidation was… unsettling, especially because he was feeling the same way. He did not know how to answer her to put her at ease. "The antidote was developed in St. Mungo's. I'm sure it will be all right," he replied.

"I know I should be happy… but I'm not," she looked up to face him and instead saw his downcast eyes. Suddenly she felt as if he carried the same sentiment, "Why James? Are there memories that I'd rather forget?"

She seemed so vulnerable, and it tore him up inside. How could he add to her burden? How could he be so insensitive – he realized that had been thinking all night only about himself.

"Those memories would make you whole again."

"But I feel so empty… why do I feel like I'll never be complete?" her hands slipped away from his and he had to look back to see her standing almost dejectedly behind him. She had unshed tears in her eyes, and her forlorn expression completely contrasted the bright smile she had earlier.

"I'm sorry…"

"No… I'm just … It's my fault," she closed her eyes, blinking away her tears, "I think I may be becoming irrational."

He remained silent as he looked at her. Suddenly, she seemed like a woman with no trappings. Suddenly, he saw her just as a woman who was capable of loving and was desperate to be loved. Her shoulders shook yet she stood firmly on her ground. Amidst everything she was still strong, she was still so bright. She was still so pure and so open… all he had to do was to walk closer and …

She felt it once more – that crushing embrace, just when she needed it. She breathed in deeply, pushing back her tears and reveling in the moment.

His heart won the argument once more… yet this did not stop his mind from retorting.

_Once you remember everything, you'll realize that I do not deserve you. I do not even deserve to touch you. When you remember, I would not be able to comfort you like this again. When you remember, you'll realize that this interlude was but a dream, a one-sided fantasy. When you remember, you'll see that these moments were just a passing breeze. _

_But it didn't matter…not anymore._

"You would remember all those moments that made you happy," he whispered, each word causing a certain ache in his heart, "you'll remember the moments that made you smile and cry. You'll remember the people, the faces, the feelings. You'll remember those you have loved and who have loved you in return."

His words were meant to soothe her yet why did she feel bothered even more bothered by it. "But why, James? Why do I still feel anxious… it's almost as if … you are drifting away."

"I… "He stopped, not knowing how to phrase the words as he loosened his hold and placed his arms by his sides once more. Hermione looked surprised, suddenly feeling colder than she was earlier. "I'm sorry…"

"Is that all you can say? You're sorry?" she said, her voice barely audible. "Why are you always trying to keep your distance?"

He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. That was just it. He loved her – all of her. He did not just love Lily, her incomplete self, lacking the memories of all the moments she shared with him back when they were young. He loved her - every piece, every bit of her. And it pained him how he could not give her all of him – his past, nor his future. He could only give her James – the side of him that existed only for her. Once she remembers and all of this is gone, this side of him would fade as well and be nothing but a passing memory.

"Since I am to be completed anyway as you say, then why don't you just take it? Take me." She moved closer to him, looked up to him with a defiant expression, "Get everything! Get my soul, my tears… my love…"

It happened before he even thought of it. Her lips were soft as he always imagined them to be, shaking as they were. His eyes were closed yet in his mind he could see her. Hermione Jean Granger, the woman who brought him back to life, the woman he wanted to give his life to… his best friend. As he moved his lips to form a rhythm with hers, he could not help but feel his heart twitching and his stomach knotting up. He always thought that the feeling would be pleasant but oddly enough it felt so … wrong… Yet he wanted it… he longed for it… he needed more…

She leaned further and she felt herself losing her balance. It happened too quickly and she was surprised… she could not even feel the tears in her eyes anymore… all she felt was the beating of her heart. It danced merrily and butterflies were in her stomach … She reached out to touch him, to hold him closer and yet…

He pulled away and the kiss abruptly ended.

And just like that she was brought back to her senses. She was in the quiet shore once more. She opened her eyes to catch her breath, only to see him looking away.

"A few years ago, you loved someone dearly. You loved him so much because even with all your fights, he still made you smile… made you happy. You made it through a few years before finally breaking up… and in those years after you broke up, you smiled less and less. I know you still love him, deep down."

"I cannot be your Ron," he grumbled, touching his hair in agitation. What had he done? What had he done? How could he possibly forgive himself now? How can he move on?

"How can you be? You are Harry," she said, almost like she was still in a daze as she tried to calm her speeding heart. Looking at his frustration, she started to wonder if they truly shared a kiss at all.

"That's it. I am just… Harry." He looked at her then and she froze. His eyes… there was so much pain in them. So much pain…

And just like that he walked away. She felt her knees buckling as her tears fell freely down her eyes. "But I love you," she cried, with nothing but the waves to hear her plea. She loved Ron? How could she? She could not still remember him fully, nor could she remember any feelings she had for him. She was… happy because Ron was funny, he could liven up the place with his stories… but besides that, there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"It is you, Harry," she whispered dejectedly, "It is you."

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Thoughts? Please don't forget to click the little button. :) What do you think will happen next? :)


	13. Chapter 12: Keeper of the Past

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Hello everyone! Sorry it took me a while to post the next chapter! School has been a bloody hell. Hope you are all still enjoying the story and thank you for all the support and reviews! Keep sending them please! :)

* * *

**Chapter 12 – Keeper of the Past**

_Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding. _  
_Fall into your sunlight. _  
_The future's open wide, beyond believing. _  
_To know why, hope dies. _  
_Losing what was found, a world so hollow. _  
_Suspended in a compromise. _  
_The silence of this sound, is soon to follow. _  
_Somehow, sundown._

_- Trading Yesterday_**  
**

* * *

_Hermione knew that scars had a history. Some of them may be painful to remember, some may bring a smile to the wearer's face. They said that scars were like battle wounds – beautiful. But then, she realized, what was the point in carving a set of words in one hand?_

_She kept examining the words in her hand, running the pad of her index finger to each letter, as if it would let her remember how she acquired such a scar. It was still jagged, even if had been there for a while now, with many cross ridges that made it ghastly to even look at. She dared not to ask Harry about it, because she had a feeling that he would be uncomfortable if she did._

_Now though, she wanted to know how she acquired such a battle mark… and the significance of the words written in her hand. Was the meaning as ghastly as the mark it left? Or was it a beautiful word in form of an awful scar? She knew she would never find out if she didn't ask… or if she won't recover her memories for that matter._

_So as she laid there in bed, she contemplated if she would ask Harry… and tried to imagine his reaction if she did. She bit her lower lip and stood up, still looking at the scar before her. It would never hurt if she tried. And besides, it had been too long since she obtained this scar so if the memory was that bad that Harry didn't want to tell it, then, she guessed that she had to make him face his past… or a part of it._

_She stood up and maneuvered her way out through the door, the sea breeze cool in her face as she went outside. She spotted Harry sitting in a chair nearby, looking at his arms. He still didn't notice her presence, so she moved towards him until he snapped out of his thoughts and grinned at her._

"_H–hey. Sorry about that," he started, standing up and scratching the back of his head._

"_Honestly, it's okay," she said, giving him a small smile._

"_So, errr –" he coughed, "do you want to take a walk?"_

_Hermione shook her head. "Not today. I wanted to ask you something. Well, I've wanted to ask you about it for a long time now."_

"_Go on," he urged, smiling at her. She took it as an indication that maybe, he would open this up. Releasing the breath she had been holding, she took a direct approach._

"_What is the meaning of Mudblood?"_

_The effect it had on Harry was instantaneous. He froze at the spot and his emerald eyes widened in shock, even his jaws slacked. "Er – w–why would you ask that?"_

_She sighed and put her arm forward, showing him the faint words. Harry blinked a few times, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. He released a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair in a vain attempt to ward of the panic swelling in his chest._

_At that time she knew. Guilt swam in his eyes, as clear as day. She released another sigh, bracing herself. "I'm not a child that you have to keep away from all the evils of the world, James. Sooner or later, you have to tell me how I obtained these scars, they are a part of my past too. Sooner or later, I will have to face them again."_

_It took Harry a while to regained his composure and in that time, all Hermione could do was wait for him. He gave no indication that they should leave this be… so she let him have all the time he needed until he was ready to open up… because she understood how difficult and painful it was for him… if you would only look through his eyes._

"_It was a foul word used when you are born with non-magical parents," he started, sighing._

_Harry looked at the scar distastefully, scowling when he realized that how easily it could be noticed and looked back at the sea, his mind drifting back to the memories that he had buried a long time ago. "That scar, it was given to you by a lunatic."_

_There was a pause as Hermione waited patiently for him to continue. "I–I couldn't even save you then," he lamented, looking away so she wouldn't see his face. He tried to compose himself, thinking that it was all a part of the past, trying to calm his heart. "I–I couldn't even do anything right. I've been a coward. I–If it wasn't because of a friend… I–If it wasn't because –"_

"_Shhh," Hermione interrupted, cupping his cheeks, urging him to look at her. It was painful to see him struggling like this, as she realized how he racked with so much guilt._

"_At that time, I wasn't able to protect you. All I did… all I did was beg for help. I'm sorry… so sorry."_

_She cupped his chin, reveling at his soulful eyes who were on the brink of tears. "It's over, Harry. It's all in the past."_

"_But that still doesn't change anything!" he rasped, his voice thick with emotion, "it did not change that you were tortured. It did not… it did not change that a friend died."_

_Hermione sighed. Her heart was being squeezed painfully in her chest at the sound of his voice. How could she make him realize? "It did change something, Harry, they made us stronger."_

"_H – how? That bloody scar didn't even do anything but taint you!"_

"_They did, Harry," she said, taking his hand, making him see the matching scar he also possessed. "they showed us what we've been through… and how strong we are for coming out of it."_

* * *

She woke up, only to see darkness… complete, utter, darkness. Thus, she doubted if she really was awake at all. She felt an eerily strange feeling, one that reminded her of her nightmares, of the times she woke up afraid… the sounds of her own screams echoing in her ears. But compared to the awful dreams she had as of late, this time, she even felt more helpless – at least you woke up from dreams. Here, there was no sound, no images… there was nothing. As she closed her eyes, she tried to assess if this was but a dream. She realized that she could not tell the difference… she could not tell anymore if this state or place she was in was simply concocted by her mind or if it were something else.

So she decided to call out… uttering _his_ name.

Yet there was no reply.

It was then when she started to get frightened. She tried calling him out again… and again, before she realized that she couldn't even hear her own voice. With a heavy sigh, she pinched herself, slightly comforted by the fact that she still existed… she could still feel, she could still touch.

Then she realized she was alone.

She had depended so much on the Auror, she thought. But now, he was not here to save her… surely he wouldn't abandon her though, right? He would come here for her, even if it wasn't out of love, but definitely not out of simple guilt alone. She should give him more credit than that because deep inside her heart, she knew…

He would come for her. For now though, she had to stand up for herself.

What was she to do? What could she do to fight out of this void?

"_There is nothing you can do, Hermione Jean Granger."_

She looked up, trying to find the source of the voice. Finally, there was something else she could somehow grasp. Yet the voice came suddenly and faded so abruptly for her to make anything out of it. She even started doubting that she heard anything at all.

"_You've been so exceptionally good at hiding."_

The voice spoke once more, and now she was sure that it wasn't a mere figment of her imagination.

There was something sinister about the voice that made her instinctively move back, trying to protect herself. Yet there was nothing behind her; no walls, no structures… nothing. She stumbled backwards, falling on the ground, almost thankful that she did not fall in an abyss. She touched the ground with her hands, feeling slightly relieved that she was able to touch something other than herself.

"… _are unexpectedly fickle, and it would be a great pleasure that I would be the one to break you down."_

The voice continued to torment her, and while the presence of another person lessened her fear, his apparent control over her bothered her. Who was the owner of the strange voice? When was he going to strike?

Gathering up all her courage, she stood up, feeling the blood rushing through her veins. It was a familiar feeling, because her helplessness allowed her to be fueled with the drive to fight. Maybe this was how she had been, when she was strong enough to protect herself… and her loved ones. But she had no one but herself now, so she knew she had to fight… it wasn't a choice, it was needed.

And suddenly, there was a movement – she felt it. It was getting closer… and closer. She raised her hand, feeling a bit disappointed that she did not have her wand, however little it would be of use.

"There is no point in fighting, _Lily. _Your time is up."

Now there was someone clutching her tightly, firmly holding her neck. She felt herself struggling to breath.

"L–Let g–go of me!" she rasped, struggling to get away from the vice-like grip.

"Now why would I want to do that?" And suddenly, she felt her heart beating faster than she could ever imagine. She had to fight… she had to get away from here… but she felt so weak. He was not here, she thought, he was not here to save her. She wondered if he would ever come. Could he even come at all?

"Your precious Auror Potter won't be able to save you now."

"W – who… are… y–you?"

She heard the man's laughter despite the baffling pain and panic she was feeling. Now she knew that this wasn't a dream, for if it was, then she would have woken up from the pain. She was trapped, trapped in a place she didn't know. She felt like she was going to die.

Then, he let go.

"Not yet, my dear Mudblood," the voice taunted once more, using the words she barely knew, but have been a part of her. She started coughing, then she remembered the scar on her hand, remembered the look of sadness in Harry's face that day she inquired about that certain scar. She remembered his look of helplessness… how he ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to calm himself… she could clearly remember it all. It was funny, really, that she thought about him even when she was so sure –

Her thoughts were interrupted as he pulled her hair back, causing her to yelp out, albeit soundlessly. She felt something cold tough her lips and soon, a bitter fluid was being forced inside her mouth, completely catching her off guard that she had no choice but to drink it.

Her tormentor snickered once more and she barely heard it as her senses got numbed by the involuntary choking and gagging that wracked her body, yet the sound didn't seem to bother the man who held her tightly. He merely whispered slowly in her ears, in a slow, agonizing voice, "I am the keeper of your past."

The words kept echoing in her mind. Yet, everything was getting hazy for her to make out what he said.

"I shall give you back your memories, dear Hermione. And soon, you will be the one to help me deliver my revenge."

He let her go as she fell to the ground, sinking deeper to oblivion… the sound of her heartbeat fading in her ears with every second that passed, until it reached a point when she could not even hear the steady rhythm anymore.

For all sounds were drowned and replaced with that of a dwindling, menacing laughter.

* * *

"She's gone. Bloody hell."

Ron never liked to be the bearer of bad news, simply because it wasn't fun… and it was exhausting. It was even harder when it was plain to see that the receiver of such news had a bad hang-over. But he knew how it was, it takes time for a bloke to wake up and come to his senses during the wee hours of the morning especially after the merriment that occurred the night before – but he never expected it to take long, it was already afternoon when he woke up. After all, Harry was used to night raids, emergencies and whatnots.

"Maybe you should hex him after all. You know, make him come to his senses," the Auror grumbled to his sister, hoping to catch his breath as he trailed behind a confused Harry. He never expected the other Auror to be in this state of panic, he was the star Auror, someone who learned to keep his calm because of his work, hell he never expected him to go bananas even if he knew he was always an impulsive one, even after all these years. He was personally nervous too. In fact, he was downright scared for his best friend.

His sister merely shrugged at him, looking at Harry knowingly. "Let him be for a while, Ron."

Surprisingly, Ginny looked like she very understood of him that it almost… bothered him. She was not always this nice, not even to Harry. Maybe there was something she knew that he didn't?

Harry suddenly stopped walking and faced them. "But she was there, Ron. She was there… with you, I saw her! She even went back to the cottage!" the pale man spoke in low tones, as he dazedly walked back closer to where his best mate stood, "she was there…"

"She was, Harry. But you need to calm down first," Ginny replied patiently, hoping to calm him, "she said she was going to get something she left from the campfire."

Ron looked at the exchange between the two. Frankly, he was starting to get annoyed. That was the third time he heard the same words getting exchanged between them, he didn't even understand how his sister could be so calm about it when normally, she would already bite someone's head off… but every time he wanted to say something about it, Ginny always shot him a gaze that told him to hold his tongue.

"We should go then. They have her, whoever they are."

And finally it happened, he thought, Harry snapped. But at least they're getting somewhere.

"Er – I hate to say this, Harry, but wouldn't it be better if at least you wear some shoes first? I mean, I know we are in a rush and all that…"

Harry stopped once more and Ron was glad for the semblance of sanity he saw in his eyes.

Harry sighed as he ran a slightly shaking hand through his hair. "Sorry. I shouldn't have been so thoughtless."

"We'll find her," seeing the desolation in his eyes, he could not help but place a firm hand on his best friend's shoulder, "I know." His sadness… was it what Ginny saw all along?

Now that he thought about it, it only seemed logical that Harry acted the way he did. After all, he was the ever dutiful Auror who took his job to heart. How many times had he risked his life for it anyway? Even he lost count after years of working with him. For that they seemed to be quite different, but he must admit that he felt that under the situation they were currently in, they were almost the same. Ron was worried about Hermione too, and what made matters worse was that it was also part of his negligence that she was currently missing.

"We must tell Kingsley and the others. Surely he already has something up his sleeve. He had been following the clues quite closely." Ginny said, taking the lead.

"Clues?"

"A number of rebellions in the west side of London, a confession of one of Hermione's co-workers – seemingly isolated minor details that are starting to come together…"

Harry was taken aback, suddenly remembering reports he received before he left his department a few weeks ago. "Survivors… from the war." How could he have been so careless? Here he was frolicking in Rippleshack when something so grave had been brewing in the background?

The Auror started thinking clearly again. He felt as if he was finally over his state of panic, and his hands were starting to feel warm once more. It started to itch, almost demanding to clear the way, almost murderously wanting to let blood be shed, just for him to get her back.

"Let's hurry. The sooner we get anywhere, the sooner would Her– er, Lily be saved." Ginny stopped when she saw someone making its way to them.

Now it took him a while to calm his anger, to put up his calm image of the Harry the people in the coast knew. It was kind of sad, now that he thought about it, that this moment had to be spoiled by the sudden turn of events. This may be the last time he may exist so freely, the last time he can talk casually to friends. He watched the man get closer to where they stood, and suddenly the events of the past month flashed in his mind.

Romulus heaved for a bit before he spoke. There was a sad expression on his usually cherubic face, "I heard you were leaving. I didn't think it would be so soon..."

Harry made his way forward shook hands with the man. To think it wasn't too long ago when he welcomed them to the coast. "I'm sorry Rom. Something came up. We have to leave right away."

"That's just too bad. Callum won't even have the chance to say goodbye."

They were such good friends, Callum, Locke, Romulus and the others. He would miss them. "Tell him I said hi, mate."

"Yes," he said, hiding his sadness and giving him a wide grin.

"So then, see you later."

"Goodbye James… Goodbye to you all… Say hi to Lil–"

"Callum is not here? Isn't it too early to go out of the village?" Ron suddenly spoke, with something more than curiosity in his tone of voice. Harry was somehow startled by it, quickly noting what Ron may have been thinking.

"Well, we were cleaning up when suddenly he said something about a mission… he left urgently after that…"

"A mission?" the Auror walked closer and observed Romulus carefully. Somehow, this Callum's disappearance was quite unsettling for him. He never liked the guy. And it had nothing to do with him dancing with his sister either.

"Ron… you do not think that…" Harry shook his head, becoming paler than he already was. Callum was a good friend. He was sure that he was not involved with this… Yet suddenly he was reminded of Pettigrew's betrayal all those years ago… and he was one of his father's closest friends.

"It's too soon to think… or not think of anything." He left it ambiguously at that, and soon he was off.

Must his last days end so bitterly? Maybe this was his punishment for indulging on it too much. When friends turned to foes and the things one held dear are suddenly stolen away, all he could do was try to be brave – try to have the courage and the strength – to become a Gryffindor.

He will get back the most important piece, an important jewel in his life.

With things still nagging him at the back of his mind, he continued to say his goodbyes to Romulus and soon after, he followed Ron and Ginny. Things were starting to look grim for him – and even the coast seemed uncharacteristically darker….

Yet in his mind, in his heart, one thing stayed clear. He knew. He must save her no matter what.

* * *

"_Harry Potter… is dead."_

"_My daughter… it seems only yesterday when you boarded that train. That day, I lost my little girl…"_

"_The Ministry of Magic has fallen!"_

"_Snape killed Dumbledore!"_

"_I want to give you this, er – it will look great on you."_

"_Why do you still bother to come here and waste your time on me, Hermione?"_

"_What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!"_

"_Thank you, Hermione. You save my life loads of time!"_

"_She needs to sort out her priorities."_

"_You filthy little Mudblood!__"_

"_You're the one who needs sleep. No offense, but you look terrible. I'm fine. I'll keep watch for a while. Where's my wand?"_

"_Don't cry. I don't want to see you cry."_

"_Herm-own-ninny."_

"_Thank you, Miss Granger. You saved the lives of so many people by implementing the rule. I can never express how grateful I am."_

"_I wanna help — I wanna kill Death Eaters —"_

"_Let's work together not only for the Ministry, let's do it for the people!"_

"_Well, er – it seemed that our cooking endeavor is a success. What do you think?"_

"_It's the way she talks to me — you'd think I was about three!"_

"_Hermione, are you ready to go?"_

"_Somehow, you remind me of Lily when she was at that age."_

"_If I could protect someone with my strength, why shouldn't I risk my life for that person?"_

"_I am sorry, Hermione. It is because of my request that Harry got hurt. And I am also the reason why he was always busy."_

"_I love you, Hermione. Even if we always fight, it will not change it."_

"_That's just it, I am just Harry!"_

"NO!" she screamed as the pain in her head almost felt like it tore her whole being apart. The voices… there were too many of them… all at the same time. The voices… joy… fear… sadness… death….

"Please…make it stop…"

Her captor gripped her arms tightly, almost piercing her skin, yet she continued to hang loosely, almost limply from his grasp as the pain completely debilitated her. He raised his hand to hit her across the face yet she barely felt it for her throbbing head made her suffer immensely.

"How does it feel now, having all those emotions inside? Who would have thought that mere memories could affect you so? To think you are suffering so greatly already? We have just barely started."

"Why… why are you doing this to me…?" she asked, taking all her self control and her pride so as not to beg. She cringed slightly, still feeling weak from everything that she had been through.

"Why? You don't deserve to know why," he muttered as he let go of her abruptly, almost throwing her to the hard floor. "But since you're suffering more than I had wanted you to, I would accommodate you on your request."

She looked up, moving her face slightly on the ground so she could have a better view. The light was starting to enter her eyes again, after all those images flashed on her head, after a long amount of darkness. She looked hard, trying her best to focus, until finally she saw a silhouette of a man. He bent down and lifted her head, and soon she had a closer view of him.

"You have been very careless, a flaw in the Ministry's walls." Why was he so angry? What had she done to him for her to deserve this? "All those deaths… those sacrifices amounted to nothing. You are a valuable asset to the Ministry, the reason why it prospered… but you will also be the one to cause its downfall."

"What… what more do you want from me?"

A pair of hands covered her eyes and she suddenly heard the man uttering a spell. Before she knew it, she was suddenly getting forced to sleep once more – a fitful sleep full of nightmares. She tried to resist it but to no avail.

"Keep those emotions inside. Don't worry… I'll let you explode in a while… and maybe then, you'll surrender yourself to me."

"_There is only one reason why I became an Auror… it is to protect the people I love."_

She was starting to lose hope. But with all the faith she could muster, she decided to call out to him one last time. For through all the shifting tides and changing times, one thing remained constant.

She only prayed he'll be there for her once again.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Thoughts? Opinions? Requests? What are your feelings for this chapter? Review!


	14. Chapter 13: Faith

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Hello everyone! This took a while but I managed to finish it. This will turn the tides and a lot of your unanswered questions will be answered soon. Hope you enjoy this one and the next chapter will come on December 25, a little present for all of you. Let me know what you guys think! :D

* * *

**Chapter 13: Faith**_  
_

_Life is more than just survival_  
_Love will be the thing that sets me free_  
_Just a little faith is all I need_

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

At first, he didn't think she needed saving – after the way she casually talked with the men. They seemed to be comrades of some sorts when they picked her up by the coast in the wee hours of the morning. He thought that they were the Aurors who would come for her, yet… knowing that Hermione Granger was one-half of the pair he had under his surveillance, he could not help but feel that something wasn't right, especially when he realized that Harry Potter was nowhere to be seen. She seemed calm enough when she went with them – seemed to be too meek even that he guessed that maybe she was under the Imperius Curse. And that was precisely why he followed them.

Spying was something the ex-Auror wasn't really fond of, but it had been part of the life he knew. It was part of the livelihood that kept him well-fed. But it was different when his subjects were famous… when he knew their names and what they did for magical Britain – and he realized how human they truly were, vulnerable – not the heroes he knew to be invincible. They seemed like an ordinary couple, one that easily deceived others who did not know who they were and what they looked like. A bit awkward at times, but nevertheless they never looked like they were pretending – they were very good at it, as if it were true… or maybe it was true, and they didn't even realize it.

Thinking about these things preoccupied him for a while. It calmed his nerves as he waited for the right time to strike. He was starting to feel like a coward when he realized he had been hiding for almost an hour now, disillusioned under a tree. But to his relief, they finally went inside the cave – vanished, more likely.

It was his cue to move. There was no room for errors now, not when he had a subject – no, a friend's life in his hands.

* * *

He listened carefully at first, checking if the coast was clear. Oddly enough, he heard nothing, but at the same time, he heard an odd form of noise around him. He first checked if there were spells that protected the area before he opened the door. And when he was satisfied that there were none, he decided not to wait further and walked inside, wand at the ready.

Darkness was the only sight to behold inside. It was dark, but he couldn't say that it was pitch black either. He didn't want to risk and blow his cover with a _Lumos_, so he continued moving forward carefully. As he got further inside, he realized that there was water – a lake, inside the cave. It surprised him at first as he descended down the knee deep water, because he didn't hear the sound of it moving. He knew the sound all too well, he lived with it all his life. Yet as he moved towards what seemed to be a source of light, he squinted from the brightness and realized that the lake was unmoving. But before he could figure out where he was, being the curious person he was, he remembered why he was there in the first place.

He cursed silently when he realized that he waited too long to come out of his cover. Now, no one was in sight. He didn't even know where Hermione was taken. There was no trail, no clue… and it was too risky to even think about performing a spell.

Normally, he wouldn't be inclined to go deeper into such a place alone, even if he was once an Auror. Yet, oddly enough, he remembered something at the back of his mind – it wasn't one of his most pleasant memories. In fact, it was something quite frightening that he almost wanted to forget it.

_"… protect her and I'll make sure you two are safe."_

Protect her… protect her, these words kept on repeating themselves in his mind. He wasn't even sure if he was capable of coming out of this place with her alive. He could feel his blood burning as he exhaled, bracing himself for what was about to happen. It invigorated him, giving him the courage to move forward.

The heroes were probably on their way, he just had to buy them some time.

* * *

Harry was weak and he knew it. No matter how much he tried to be strong for the people he loved, he always failed to protect them… at the end of the day, he was still powerless. He was robbed of almost everything he longed for – parents, family, friends, his godfather… his childhood. But somehow, knowing that there were still people who needed him, and people he still had to protect – people like _her_, somehow, it made the burden easier and he managed to break free of his sadness and see things in a different light. She was there for him, yet at the time when she needed him the most, all he could do was watch and wait.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" he heard Ginny speak beside him as he addressed her brother, Ron. She glanced at his way a bit hesitantly and the worried look on her face told him that he might have scowling too much.

"Yeah, Ron, are you sure this is the only way? It's a bit creepy in here." It was Neville who spoke this time, eyeing the place suspiciously as he held his wands with shaking hands. Releasing a heavy sigh, he moved forward and watched as Ron muttered another spell, checking if there were traps needed to be undone.

When he finished the spell, Ron frowned at them. "I know what I am doing, all right?" he lowered his wand once more and proceeded on doing another intricate movement, "How come you don't believe me when I say it? I am a very capable Auror, thank you very much!"

They have been standing idly inside a cave at the edge of another forest in London for several minutes now, and Ron had just finished tracking the magical signature that they obtained a few minutes after Callum disappeared. It had been faint that when they discovered the cave, it already vanished. Harry felt Ginny's hands on his shoulders, as if she was trying to stop him from taking a step forward. She shot him another worried look and focused her gaze back at the door when she realized he knew.

With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes for a while, tightening his grip on his wand as he waited for Ron's signal. He remembered a time when all he could do was listen as Hermione's cream filled his ears – instantly he was reminded how it had been several years ago, that particular memory when he was locked in the Malfoy's dungeon, barely alive. He breathed yet he could do nothing to save her, even though she tried her best to save him by hiding his identity. Even after the war, he realized that he had been incompetent… his loved ones still died, even if he tried his best. Yet all his sentiments had been unnecessary, for she grew stronger and more capable. It was she who always lifted him up, so that he could continue to move forward.

It was then when he realized that he needed her, even after all this time.

Just when he thought he finally had an opportunity to protect her, just when she was vulnerable and needed all the care he could give – that was when he fell apart and succumbed to his weakness.

Now, where did that careless sentiment of his put them? Where was she now? She was in the hand of another power-hungry bloke, toyed with to accomplish another grand, pointless scheme of revenge and destruction of everything they helped to rebuild.

Hermione's captor was a madman. He knew his kind. The man lost everything, just as he had as a child. He lost his name, his family – and he was willing to throw everything away. He felt betrayed, alone – emotions Harry had been familiar with. The man just wanted anything and everything to suffer… just as his heart did.

All of this was because the man thought he did not have anything to live for, and that was probably what set them apart. _Which was why… which was why…_

Ginny did not even have time to react when she saw a jet of light pass her by… it had been too close, too close in fact that she realized it only missed her by mere inches. Ron was in no better position, as she saw him in the ground looking as surprised as she was.

"What did you do that for?" he finally spoke out loud seconds later, and she was glad to hear that he had recovered already.

Harry just could not wait anymore. He needed to find her _now_.

Neville, who had been too shocked from the exchange, moved closer and helped Ron to stand back up to his feet, whispering, "He did not aim for you. He was just becoming too impatient."

"Bloody Hell, Harry! You do know why loggers yell timber when they cut trees, don't you?" Ron remarked, yet he could only shot him a warning glance. They all moved back when he cast another spell, blowing the door into smithereens.

He walked passed Ron without even pausing to apologize. He could not even think about those things anymore. He just had one thought in mind – he had to reach her.

With each step, he somehow prayed it was another step closer to her.

"Harry, there's someone at the junction!" Ron shouted frantically behind him, as Ginny and Neville continued to mumble spells. "For the love of Merlin, Harry, don't be a fool! They might kill us with the Killing Curse!"

No… No.. he could not die. Not yet. He started to feel the fire in his veins as he released spell after spell upon the enemies, ignoring the shouts of protests from his friends and the wounds that were caused by his foolish actions. He would purge whatever would stand in his way. Nothing can stop him now.

He knew he was weak, yet he would continue to fight with all that he's got.

* * *

If there was something that Callum wanted do right now, it was to return to the coast. Thinking about how the sun shined brightly made him long for the light of the day. What business do the bastards have in this hell hole, of all places? He felt as if he were walking closer and closer to the pit of darkness, although ironically, artificial lights were now scattered- getting brighter and more abundant in the path of dirt. He noticed some changes in the place as well, because the surroundings were becoming noisier. He could hear sounds of a higher pitch, which was more comforting than that hollow and unmoving part of the cave.

He narrowed his eyes to look around and plan his route. At first he wanted to move forward, hoping he might arrive somewhere after crossing another well-lit path. Yet after going through more than three of these passages without arriving anywhere, his instincts told him to try another path. He looked around and saw that to his left was another area. It was hard to notice it at first glance because it did not seem to belong to the well-lit path. The area was dark and the ground looked untouched. He then moved towards it and was surprised when the area still seemed as bright as the dirt path he took. The ringing sounded to get louder and was starting to become unpleasant. He walked around some more, carefully moving against the rocks.

He reached what seemed to be a peak and he managed to look around. After seeing that the area was empty and not even an enemy was in sight, he decided to turn back and explore his other options. Yet before he could even step down from where he stood, he saw something as he scanned the area one last time. He saw it… or rather, her, lying in the ground, not too far away.

Without even thinking, he rushed down to be by her side, a bit panicked as she was so still and unmoving. He knelt down beside her, shaking her hesitantly at first, not knowing if she were hurt or not, or if his actions might hurt her more.

"Lily…" he hissed, and still she did not move. She was not used in calling her Hermione, even if it was her real name. When she did not stir, he held both of her shoulders and shook her harder.

Her head stooped down to one side and he felt the blood drain away from his face. She can't possibly be dea–

She groaned slightly, almost inaudibly, and Callum quickly let out the breath he didn't know he was holding in.

"Lily! Are you all right? Come on, let's get out of here," he whispered to her as he placed one arm under her knees. But to his utter surprise, she suddenly pushed him away so hard that he actually fell on the ground. To think she looked half dead mere seconds ago!

"Lily! It's me, it's Callum!" he quickly scrambled to his feet when he saw her get up, clutching her head as if she were in pain, "Lily!"

"Stop calling me that!" she snapped back at him, her voice filled with anger. She hugged herself as she grimaced, looking like she wanted to cry yet her eyes burned with fire.

"What's wrong with you? We haven't got much time. We have to go…"

"No!"

"Lily!"

"Stop it. Stop it," she exclaimed, pushing him away once more.

"Come on, let's go."

"No!" she resisted his grasp and managed to break away. As he continued to look at her, she still had that agitated expression. It was the same expression he saw a month ago, as Harry lay wounded in Rippleshack. Inside, she was in pain, so much pain.

"Just let me help you." He stretched out his arm to her once more.

"No…" she then touched her head with shaking hands, "No… I can't…"

"Lily…"

"That's right. She cannot come with you." He was surprised to hear another voice behind him. He turned around quickly to see a man not older than he was, holding what seemed to be a potion in his hands. He had a wicked smile on his face and his eyes… he had the same eyes as the Inferi.

Callum impulsively grabbed on to Hermione's arm and forcefully pulled her behind him, as he drew out his wand. He knew something was wrong… so very wrong. He looked around, trying to form an escape route yet…

"How pleasant for you to be here," the man raised his other hand and a dark ball of energy formed with his wand. Fearing the worst, Callum grabbed on to Hermione, hoping to tackle her to the ground, yet before he could even move his feet, he suddenly felt the ground shaking beneath him and before he knew it he was falling…

"Callum!" he heard her shrill scream… just before everything around him turned black.

* * *

"What have you done?" Hermione fell down to her knees, desperately searching the place where Callum fell.

"Oh, I have been doing some random things," the man said almost nonchalantly, "like ushering more guests to our little show. Unfortunately, we would have to do this sooner than I hoped to."

She noticed the potion in his hands and she instinctively moved back. "Why are you doing this?"

"Hermione, dear Hermione," he muttered as grabbed her arm and pulled her back to her feet. "You ask too many questions. Just do as you are told."

"No!" she closed her eyes, hoping to summon her strength yet more images and voices plagued her mind and she was unable to concentrate. "Stop… make it stop…"

"Confusion can amount to nothing but chaos, so just listen to me. If you want to end it all, then do it." He held her hand tightly, pressing into her palm until her skin cracked and started to bleed. Then he placed the potion in her hands, "All you have to do is succumb to the spell. Then, it will stop."

She hoped to throw the potion away yet she felt that it would be no use. He already used the antidote… all he had to do now was to wait for her to mutter the words to make the spell complete – then she would no longer be Hermione, but a pawn of someone who wished for the Ministry's destruction, someone who wished for another war.

"What are you waiting for Hermione…" he said to her, almost tauntingly. He then took a step back and laughed loudly, "Only you could stop it. Stop it now. Utter the words and I may spare your friends, there will be no deaths on your part. My men are already on the move, so chose now."

She shook slightly, feeling her strength fading away. Everything started to fade away. She could not even feel the boulders shaking or the previously unmoving waters rippling. Suddenly she just wanted everything to stop. She wished she could stop the beating of her heart. Each pump, each second caused her pain, caused her heartbreak. How could her feelings cause her so much turmoil?

Feelings… so insignificant yet seemingly so pure.

"No!" She then heard a familiar voice in the middle of all the chaos. She opened her eyes ever so slightly and saw him… making his way towards her – just when she stopped calling for him, just when she wished never to see him again.

"Harry," she gasped, was this a dream? Yet as he got closer, she could almost feel herself wanting to run to him.

She failed to notice everything else – all the shouts, screams, ground shaking, explosions, and kept her eyes on him as he dueled with the enemy. It was a graceful dance as the two clashed. Spells fired on the walls of the cave, explosions rang on her ears. Then, in a blink of an eye, he was there beside her, all bloody and bruised up.

He was just suddenly there, holding her. "Hermione."

"It would be no use, you're too late, Potter. Soon, the spell I invented will take over her and she will only listen to _me_," the voice said as it continued to duel their friends.

She would have slapped him if she could, yet it still it did not seem enough for everything that he had done to her. For all the fear, the joy, the sadness… "You… everything that has happened… I – Harry," she stopped speaking as she felt her knees buckling and pain suddenly shooting through her whole body.

The combination of curses that were done to her were now taking their toll. And all she could see before her was the man who plagued her mind the most, filling it with convoluted emotions that shook her to the core. He knew her since she was a child, and taught her the meaning of friendship. He was there in her every adventure, the insufferable git who thought that he could bear all the guilt in the world. He accepted her 'hatred' willingly when she told him she had enough of him not noticing her efforts to bring him out of his desolation, though he seemed to reject her affection. He left her, when all she wanted was for him to know she loved him, and he did not look like he _wanted_ to stay…

He made her feel so weak; he made her feel so incomplete.

"How could you do this to me?" she managed to speak out once more, as she finally let the tears fall from her eyes. "You make me feel too much – hurt, confusion, happiness, sadness…"

"Hermione," he held her closer to himself, as he tried to keep her awake. He couldn't feel his body now, which was all bruised up and wounded.

"No, I don't want you to suffer," she curled up, avoiding him, "if I wake up again, I might attack you, I might even kill you." Yet she felt his arms continuing to tighten around her, "I don't want him to win, Harry, but you need to let go."

"Hermione!"

"…it never was mine, was it?" she said in a half-choked sob, almost in a whisper.

"Please, don't do this. The potion he gave was to make the spell stronger, but you can overcome it. You have my life, let me have your pain. Please…"

"I – I don't know," she finally looked up to face him, her eyes fully focused on his, even though the pain and all the voices inside her head were screaming at her. "I can't."

She had an urge to hurt him, yet at the same time she could not bear it. For once she had a clear thought in her mind. She would not want to see him hurt even more. She knew that this pain she had was almost as much as he had endured.

"If you succumb to the spell, Hermione, you'll die! Once you give yourself up, your body will just be a puppet, a shell," he shouted at her, and for once, she saw tears in his own eyes. "Do you hear me? I will not let that happen. If you wish to die, I will have to die first."

"No," she stopped struggling, as she was finally torn between holding on to him and running away. She did not want him to die. Because… because… "Why are you so stubborn? Stop this! If I give up, at least I can be rest assured that you'll be able stop them, but if you remain here, Harry, all our work… everything. _Please_,don't do this. I don't know until when I can still fight it."

"No!" He shook her then, as he felt his own vulnerability with the pain in his heart suddenly exploding, shaking him to the core. "I love you… and I blame myself for my own weaknesses. Please, you can slap me and hex me later, you can even forget about me, but please, hold on. Ron has the antidote, you'll be okay."

"Harry…"

"My life… those memories, that's all I have… that's all I can give you." He managed to hold her wrists, yet she heard the way he groaned under his breath and saw the blood splattered on his clothes… he's not going to make it if this went on. Still, he continued to hold on, sheer will forcing him to stay awake. He cupped her face, willing her to look into his eyes as he smiled. "Don't let go, all right?"

Why?

Why must things be this way? Why must everything be a mess in her head, in her heart? Everything was just clashing, and nothing seemed to be in place. Joy, pain, sadness, anger, why was everything just gushing all together? And the voices…

He heard someone shouting somewhere, and a vial fell down beside him in a clunk. He quickly grabbed into it and fell down as his body failed him, but never once did he let her hand go. She felt her knees buckling once more and she was powerless as Harry fell on the ground, in pain.

"I can't… I don't think I can hold on much longer…"

"No!" he managed to squeeze her hand as he continued to fight the pain he was feeling. He slowly crawled towards her, in a slow, agonizing moment, as he held on to the antidote. He uncapped the vial with all the strength he could muster… only a little more… just a little more…

The light started to blind her. Her head fell back and she closed her eyes, starting to feel calmness creep in to her once more as Harry managed to let her drink the vial's contents. Was she going to make it? Was she going to die? The noise faded, her feelings numbed. Suddenly there was nothing once more. She wasn't able to do it after all. She let go, unable to hold on.

And suddenly, she felt an odd sense of peace.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Questions? Suggestions? What do you guys think about the chapter? Please review. :)


	15. Chapter 14: Dreams and Reality

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Hello everyone! Sorry for the late update. I just got my internet back so I couldn't post it sooner. Hope y'all have a good year ahead of you and here is the last chapter of 2012. :) Thank you for all the support/opinions/reviews/alerts/faves and most of all, thank you all for reading this! Let me know your opinion in this chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 14: Dreams and Reality**

_Wait, waiting for a sign, crying to the sky_  
_For love to come around so hope won't let me down_  
_Shadows carry on, the light is all but gone_  
_Your promise calls to me, a love so rescuing_

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

The Minister moved with such grace and danger that people never knew he possessed, with the Aurors, Hit Wizards and Watchers surrounding him like a fortress, and yet he still felt fear in his heart. It was his first time to leave his office for such a dangerous mission after he became the Minister, with a full entourage escorting him no less, yet it still did not reduce the apprehension he felt. A few hours ago, a wizard was captured after he attempted to use an Imperius Curse on one of the Wizengamot. It alarmed him that it was happening so fast and thanked Merlin for Percy and George's ingenious work which helped them detect the curse. After a few hours of probing and questioning with the help of Veritaserum, he decided to take the matter into his own hands.

Frankly, if he had a choice, he would much rather wait for his friends in his office, as the Head of the Auror Department, Gawain Robards told him. Yet the worry in his heart did not subside as he waited for the news, and the fact that he was safe as they risked their lives again made him worry more.

Especially since it was the first time this happened after the last war.

To think they were against something dangerous made matters even worse. There were only four of them, after all, not counting Hermione. He could not go on resting, waiting in a sheltered office, when he knew he was also capable of defending the lives he had sworn to protect.

He rallied his troops minutes after the Terrier Patronus entered his office. He had already spend the past few weeks preparing for this, after all, although he did not expect Hermione to be captured. It complicated loads of things, and now he had to retrace everything and start all over. It took them a while to locate this cave, which stood unsuspicious near a forest at the edge of London. At first, he thought this was the enemy's base, but as he descended further, the eerie calm of the place as well as the lack of apparent spells made him think otherwise. This must be just a quick escape route.

"It seemed that they developed an ingenious way to get rid of you, these blokes," said Gawain said, smirking as they descended further into the cave.

He couldn't help but smirk as well at his subordinate's remark. After all, the man's plan was brilliant, if not twisted. "It is well thought, and frankly, I didn't expect any less from this man."

Gawain quirked his brows, "how do you know him?"

"I am a former Auror, my old friend. I know how underground plans work, but instead of attacking directly, I happen to love gathering information about their plans and movements."

"Tch, still the same as always, Kingsley. Always taking us by surprise," Gawain remarked.

Kingsley laughed, "It was rather easy to decode, Gawain, especially when one of the people working under Ms. Granger decided to confess that there was a plan to start a new war."

"Hmp, I still never expected that they would use Granger to get to you. I thought they knew better than to involve a friend of Potter's."

Oddly, he still could not stop himself from pitying the man. He was probably no better than the Inferi right now, because his once brilliant mind was already warped, his kind heart already dead. He couldn't help but ask himself of how much despair he must be keeping inside, because he also knew a person who kept so much guilt. Knowing about this mysterious man was not a very easy task. He spent several weeks with Ron and Neville, searching for leads. The two Aurors travelled from one place to another, looking for answers, completely clueless. Fortunately, their search led to a little town in the west of London, where a former Death Eater was captured. "They spent years planning it, Gawain. Apparently, they already knew that Ms. Granger will be an important figure in the Ministry, what with her successful campaigns for the rights of people and creatures alike. He knew that she was starting to change this world, people loved her."

"Heh, it still doesn't make sense why they want to control her though, they should know better because we _will _know if something is up, sooner or later," Gawain retorted as they stopped walking, signalling an Auror to check the door.

"That was their plan all along. They want to use Ms. Granger to implant some of their comrades in the Ministry, because she is the current head of one of the Departments in DMLE. If by chance we find out, it will already be too late, and the people will protest if we even try such thing as imprison her."

"Tch, not to mention how Potter and Weasley will react, it will be a rather unfortunate event."

"Exactly. Those two will go ballistic and they will achieve what they wanted to do all along – overthrow me."

The Auror re-emerged from their sight and Gawain signalled the group to move forward once again. They were deep inside the cave now, and he noticed that there was a source of light deep inside.

"But you outsmarted them, _Minister_." This time, Gawain smiled, his eyes wide with admiration for his friend's brilliant scheme.

The two stopped talking when they finally saw the bright lights illuminating the path. The Minister signalled the troops to halt, taking extra precautions just in case. Then, he turned to the Auror who was leading them and gave him a curt nod, "the Healers and the backup are waiting for further orders by the entrance of the cave, am I correct?" The Auror nodded and for a while, Kingsley pondered on whether or not he should send someone to fetch them. Yet, there was no imminent danger present to warrant such an action, and for a while, he wondered if he was just too paranoid. "Send a patronus to their group and tell them that if we would not be out in an hour, they should follow immediately."

The Auror nodded once again and Kingsley watched as he started casting the spell. A bright white hawk appeared from the tip of his wand once again, flapping its wings with such grace and royalty that the bird possessed, and they watched as it travelled back.

"Minister! We found the hidden path! It appears to have been hidden by a spell. One of the Aurors already disabled the spells," One of the men in the rear suddenly spoke. Kingsley waved his hand to let the group know that they were moving as Gawain ushered them to have their wands at the ready.

He felt his heart his heart beating wildly in his chest. The unnerving silence was also not helping at all. He wished he could hear a flurry of activities – spells being casted, explosions, anything that could tell them that they were at the right place. Had he been too late? He hoped not.

The group moved forward, alert and ready if ever there would be an ambush and when they reached the end of the hidden path, all they could do was stare, wide-eyed at the scene before them.

The path was littered with people – witches and wizards alike, who were scattered on the floor. They were unconscious, and there were signs of spell fires in the area, as well as splattered blood. The groups scattered to look around and examine the bodies closely, and he could even hear Gawain shouting commands. Without thinking about it, Kingsley suddenly ran forward, surprising everyone around him, yet he didn't care.

He ran, not even thinking about the consequences… he could hear the people's voices as they shouted for him, yet he didn't do so much as look back. He ran… until he froze on his tracks.

"Ron!" Kingsley shouted as he moved closer to him, only to jump and go closer to another unconscious figure, "Ginny!"

He could hear the distant shouts of the men as they finally reached him but he didn't pay them any attention as he tried to shake an unconscious Ginny. When he finally realized that it may be due to a spell and he could do nothing about it, he took her in his arms. "Get the injured and take them to St. Mungo's, quickly! Head Auror Robards has a portkey."

His subordinates were suddenly moved with haste, examining the area for people. One of the Aurors took Ginny from him and for a while, only the shouts and flurries of activities registered him his mind. He spotted two men supporting a barely conscious Neville Longbottom who seemed to have no energy left to even protest as he smiled weakly at him.

He, along with Gawain, gave instructions to the men so that they could search the place. More people came from behind him and suddenly started throwing _Lumos_ for a better illumination. They started checking the vital signs of the people who lay scattered all around them – friends and enemies alike.

That was when he recognized two figures at the far left surrounded by four of his men and suddenly, he started running towards them. "How are they?"

"Unconscious, Minister. Auror Potter seemed to have lost too much blood, his pulse is weak. He has a broken arm and a few broken ribs and he seems to be in a worse shape. Miss Granger is in a better condition, merely unconscious."

"Send them to St. Mungo's immediately after you applied the first-aid," he said and spotted a wizard making his way towards him, "tell the men to capture everyone they can find, we will need answers. Also, send the Healers and the back-up team inside, we will need all the help we can get."

With a nod, the wizard signalled his comrades as Kingsley helped them move an unconscious Harry to a stretcher.

"That bad, huh? Even Weasley, my master strategist got injured. And I still can't believe Potter outdid himself again, fool," Gawain said as he made his way towards him, his face grim.

Kingsley stood up and sighed wearily, "Really? I seem to recall someone who is like him."

"Tch, sod off. I don't act on instinct alone. Contrary to what you believe in, I happen to think while I act," Gawain replied defensively.

The Minister shrugged, "If I remember correctly, you are the first one to act impulsively in a mission. You always gave headaches to the Head Aurors."

"Heh, I still can't believe this kid though. It's as if he didn't learn his lessons even after being in the office for all these years, at least _I_ did," Gawain retorted as he watched the men struggle to make a Portkey.

"Harry never seemed to think clearly if he knew a loved one is in danger. That's the force that drives him forward, and if I recall correctly, it is also the reason why you accepted him as an Auror." He remembered that time clearly. Gawain marched to his office one day when he realized that the kids who risked their lives in the war wanted to become Aurors. He yelled at Kingsley and told him he was mental for even considering it but Kingsley convinced him to see if they were up to the challenge.

It took Gawain a few days to warm up to the group, yet he never seemed to be in the same wavelength as Harry. They always argued whenever Harry committed a mistake or broke a protocol, and no matter what he did, he could not find it in him to even understand why the boy wanted so much to become an Auror after a war. He even asked the boy to quit. Still, all it took was one mission – a mission where the boy saved him even if it meant being fatally injured – for him to realize his dedication and his will to protect the people he cared about.

"The kid has guts. If I have been in his place, I would never have wanted to become an Auror again after all that I experienced. But he's different though, he used it as a drive to keep protecting people."

Kingsley nodded. He knew Harry well enough to realize that it had been the reason why he was able to move forward. He wanted to protect the people he cared about and he lived so that he could protect them… and their happiness. But he didn't allow them to protect his own happiness, and that was what saddened him. Harry wanted to keep the burden of the past alone, and he didn't want to share it with anyone. "I hope he'll be all right."

It was the only words he could say.

* * *

_"No, not yet," __His grip was firm when he touched her shoulder only to make her face the other direction. He led her a few steps away from what he was doing and left her there a few seconds later. "Wait just a little bit longer."_

_Hermione decided to comply while thinking to herself how she never expected Harry to be the playful sort after spending so much time with him in the peaceful coast. She knew he was already a grown man yet he sure acted like a young boy at that moment. Surprisingly, it did not annoy her… it only made him more endearing._

_He had been working on whatever he was preoccupied with at the moment since noontime. After lunch, he told her that he was going to do something by the shoreline, or what technically had been their backyard, and left immediately after. She noticed that he left his wand in the kitchen, so she concluded that whatever he was up to was something he did not usually do. She waited for a while, yet when her boredom started to get the best of her, she finally decided to take a peek from their window. She saw him working alone without any tools or any other object but sand and the seawater and this was enough to pique her curiosity, she had an idea on what he was doing. He seemed very serious about the task too, as he almost seemed as though he were scowling under the sunlight. Yet when she tried to approach him, he awkwardly tried to push her away._

"_Come on, James, not even a peep?" she squeaked, forcing herself to sound more eager than she truly was just to make him give in. What was he really up to? She tried to ask herself as she bit her lower lip. At the moment she felt like an impatient child who wanted nothing but to play. Her "playmate" was playing the part as well, as he tried to come up with something worthy enough to be called a surprise. She wondered if they had spent such leisurely moments together like this one when she was much younger, for if they never did, she was glad she was actually experiencing it now._

_She heard him clap his hands as if to remove the dirt in them. It took several more seconds until he finally said, "All right, you can go out now." She never realized how excited she truly was until he said the words out loud. She twirled, squinting from the bright sunlight at first, but after a while, she finally narrowed her eyes to see what Harry had been up to._

"_It's a…" she could not understand it at first for it seemed like nothing but a big chunk of sand… Actually it looked more like a big lump, or even a hill._

"_Come here," he then extended his arm towards her direction. She took it confusedly and moved closer to his side, "Look at it from here."_

_Sure enough, the hill seemed to have more form from that vantage point and she was able to appreciate it more. She knew what it was, but decided to play along. "Er – what is it, exactly?"_

C_huckling, he said, "It's a sandcastle."_

"_Oh, a sandcastle!" She echoed, as she went down on her knees to look at it more closely. There were several pillars and some cylinders made of sand that seemed to have been placed one after the other. _

_She moved a bit when Harry knelt down beside her, seeming to look at her attentively for a reaction. She glanced towards his direction, not really knowing what to say. She had an urge to laugh when she saw the dirt in his face and what seemed to be mud in his shirt. Although she wanted to scold him for being as tidy as a seven year old, it amused her to think that for a while, he did act like he were seven years old, he looked much younger and much more carefree than he usually did… and that was enough to make her happy. He was still looking at her expectantly and she was still at a loss as to what she should tell him… that was until a thought suddenly crossed her mind._

"_It is… interesting," she said, trying hard to keep a straight face as she tried to copy his neutral expression. She touched her chin and nodded appreciatively while still keeping her stern expression. She could not hold back her laughter when he grunted and shook his head, seemingly torn between trying to look indignant and trying to look forlorn. She then slapped his arm playfully and said, "Honestly, it serves you right!"_

_He shot her a glance and pursed his lips slightly, looking as if he were trying not to smile "I'm sorry, I tried to be as artsy as possible, you know? But apparently, I still lack the talent," he mumbled seriously, though he seemed to be having a hard time keeping a straight face himself._

"_First an Auror and now an architect? Your versatility amazes me, James," she shook her head as she looked more closely at his masterpiece. "I think I will like to have a tour of this sandcastle of yours," she said as she looked at him a bit challengingly, knowing that creativity was not really one of his strong points._

"_A tour?"_

"_Well yes! Show me around the castle please?"_

"_Well…" he started, seeming to take up the challenge. He coughed self-consciously and finally pointed at one side of the castle. "I wanted to build something that is er – homey, but the sand only allows me to build a castle. So, er – think of this as an actual house and not a castle. Here," he said, pointing at the space left of the sandcastle, "is the garden. See? There is some space to plant assorted flowers and trees, and maybe we can even have a picnic there. There is more space on the other side. Here maybe we can build a quidditch pitch and play with our friends."_

_She nodded, showing her attentiveness as he stopped to look at her. He seemed hesitant at first yet he nevertheless continued, "Then here is a back entrance," he continued as he pointed to the space below the actual sandcastle, "there will be a door to the basement, but you will not see it because it is hidden."_

"_Oh I see," she nodded, somehow feeling happy for the improvement of his storytelling skills. "But what about the main castle? What is found in there?"_

_He stopped for a while to think, then, he finally shrugged and looked back at her, "I honestly do not know. I was actually hoping you'll tell me."_

_Her eyes widened, feigning an indignant expression, "Why will I do that? It is your castle after all," she replied, hoping he would not give up on the game so easily._

"_Not exactly." His eyes shifted a little, looking as if he wanted to say something without knowing how to properly phrase it._

"_What do you mean?" she asked encouragingly, prodding him to explain further._

"_I built the sandcastle for you." He turned away from her as he bowed slightly, timidly, and suddenly Ashe realized how adorable he could have been when he was a little boy. "I built it for you, so you can do what you want with it."_

"_For …me?"_

_She knew something of castles. It had space, too much of it in fact. The walls were hard and cold. People would often come and go… monarchs, statesmen, servants, and soldiers. _

_It was nothing like the castle before her now, for even if it appeared like a sandcastle, Harry likened it to a house._ _Although it was not perfect, it seemed to be the perfect place for her to live in. The castle that Harry built was a home._

"_No," she smiled, trying to calm her heart thinking it would not be proper to be all sentimental now that they were playing a game, "It is not just mine. You built it, therefore it is ours." He looked at her warmly, and somehow she felt as though he understood._

_Trying to keep her emotions in check, she then looked away and glanced back at the sandcastle. "Here, I want this to be the kitchen," she pointed at the lower right side of the, near what he said to be a space for the garden. "I'll be cooking during the weekdays of course."_

_He nodded, looking as if he had no plans of disagreeing, although he had a tell-tale expression in his face. "I bet it will be tasty. I'll cook for you during the weekends, so that when you come home from work, I'll make sure there is something delicious to look forward to," he said, grinning as he looked at her. _

_She went on talking as she pointed at different parts of the sandcastle until she finally reached the tip. "Here's where our rooms should be. Here is the room for the king and the queen of the house."_

"_The king and the queen?"_

"_Yes of course, that would be us."_

"_Well… I – I don't know," he still seemed to be playing the game yet he was slipping back into reality._

"_Of course you will be the king," she said hurriedly, as she pulled his hand and held on to it tightly. "As far as I'm concerned, in our home, you are the king… the husband. Why… you built it and I merely went in and fixed it all up." She gave him a look daring him to go against what she said, and sure enough, he merely kept quiet and let her go on. They were still after all playing the game, and she had lain out the rules._

_The owner of the house… that thought never occurred to him before. Sure, he owned Grimmauld Place, but the house never felt like a home to him, even after all these years of living under it. He was already starting to feel comfortable there, but then, it always felt like something was missing. The house was too quiet for his liking, and it always seemed bare. What would it mean to have a house that you could call a home? He wondered._

"_Where will the children stay?" she asked suddenly and he tried hard to focus on what was going on before him._

"_It is small," was all he could say and he was glad his reply was good enough. Hermione's expression brightened up suddenly._

"_They can stay with us then! And we can all be happy together."_

_Happy. Happiness. Together. Both of them… the mere thought of it was warm._

_Her happiness was something he always thought of, yet personally, the word no longer had meaning or value. Maybe it was because he was a simple man, and simple things could give him happiness. Then again, perhaps it was the other way around. He wished for impossible, seemingly unattainable things, which was why happiness, his happiness was nothing but a distant thought. _

_But at that moment, he seemed to live again as James, without actually being himself. Yet somehow the feelings, the thoughts, she… everything seemed true enough for him. In an instance such as this one, was he not entitled to think of his own happiness?_

_A life with her, perhaps, that would spell out happiness for him. A life where she could be his home, where they could build a home together – it did not need to be a castle, he did not need to be a king._

_But what about Ron? What about her feelings, her past, the memories she had forgotten?_

"_Say Harry, how many children would you like to have?"_

_He looked at her, startled by her question, and he quickly saw the mischievous glint in her eyes._

_Happiness was something that was actually felt without realizing it …for he felt it, now, in his heart, now that he was with her, now that they played this game._

"_A small family will be fine," he replied, smiling, "about three or four, so that they will be taken care of."_

"_Three or four!" she gasped, as she looked at him incredulously._

_Harry merely grinned at her and shrugged. _"_You're impossible," she muttered as she playfully hurled a fistful of sand towards his direction. He easily avoided it and merely smiled in return. "Come on, let us eat dinner."_

"_Dinner? I think it's still early for that," he asked, as he still felt the sun shining overhead._

"_Yes," she chuckled as she stood up and dusted off her clothes, "But we need to buy vegetables, as well as oil and bread. The kitchen is empty!"_

_He stood up and went beside her, "Of course."_

S_he started walking away when suddenly she stopped and looked back at him. "But what about the sandcastle? Will it be all right there?"_

_He shrugged looking back at what he made himself, "We can't stay and look at it all night," he said almost nonchalantly. "We'll look at it from our window as we eat dinner."_

"_All right."_

_Several hours passed, the sun had set and the tide had risen. The supposed couple found themselves seated by the window, looking at nothing but a dark sea._

"_It tastes nice," he started, trying to break the silence. She seemed gloomy since she discovered that the sandcastle had crumbled, and somehow he felt as though she was sadder than he should have been. "No, I think it's delicious."_

_She merely looked at him, gave him a wry smile and muttered a rather reluctant, "Thank you."_

"_Really, it is." He added, hoping to cheer her up even just a little bit. He looked out once more and saw the empty space. The happiness in his heart dwindled and was instead replaced by a more bittersweet feeling. A sandcastle crumbles, and easily gets blown away by the wind or washed away by the tide. While it could be pleasing, or even quaint, in the end it did not last. It was transient, fleeting. It could only be sealed in a memory._

"_Sorry I could only give you a sandcastle."_

_She looked at him once more, her eyes a deeper shade of brown. She seemed thoughtful, almost lonely, but suddenly a small smile crept into her face – then it bloomed and he saw the most beautiful sight he always wanted to see._

"_Tomorrow, let us build another one. Together."_

_As he heard her words, he decided to let go of everything else, just this once. How many times had he tried to do this, years ago, in a quiet night in his bed, or before a mission? This was the only instance when the feeling seemed so real. He might as well enjoy it than feel it slipping away. Perhaps he also deserved it, one way or another._

"_Sure."_

* * *

**Author's Notes: **What do you think of the chapter? Reviews are always appreciated!


	16. Chapter 15: Letting Go

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Please don't kill me? I've updated now. :) Sorry it took so long, school can be a bitch and part-time work took away my time in fanfiction. I'm back though, but will continue with the sloooow updates. Only a few more chapters to end this story! Thank you for every review, fave and alerts, please continue on supporting me and letting me know your opinions so I will improve! :)

* * *

**Chapter 15 – Letting Go**

_And finding answers. _  
_Is forgetting all of the questions we called home. _  
_Passing the graves of the unknown._

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

It wasn't uncommon for him to wake up feeling pained all over. But somehow, the soreness he felt at that moment seemed to surpass whatever he felt before. He realized he was regaining his consciousness, without actually knowing how he lost it in the first place. All the details just seemed so insignificant because of the pain.

Suddenly he felt a pair of hands placed on his shoulders, almost as if shaking him to wakefulness. The grip was firm, almost painful, as sharp nails seemed to dig through his skin.

"Harry," he heard his name getting called out. The voice was soft yet insistent. It belonged to a woman… if only his mind would cease being foggy… "Harry," the woman called again, and he moved his lids some more when he felt well enough to open his eyes.

The woman let go of his shoulders as she saw him stir awake. At first she thought him to be stuck in another nightmare, but after she saw his lids moving, she actually felt quite relieved that he was finally regaining consciousness. He opened his eyes, squinting a bit to the light, and he groggily looked to his side and focused on her. He looked confused, and for a moment, he seemed to be a bit panicked. He opened his mouth as if to speak, yet no words came out. He was still probably not done waking up just yet. His mouth moved again, and after a while some sounds finally came out.

"Gin…ny?" he felt something sting in his throat as he spoke with a hoarse voice. He closed his eyes once again not quite sure of where he was or what was happening. Without really thinking about it, he opened his eyes and tried to speak again. "Her…mio…ne."

Ginny's lips moved slightly, as if in a smile as she leaned down to make the Harry hear her more properly. "I am glad that you recognized me first, yet I am not too surprised when you asked about Hermione. She's all right, if that was what you are asking. She was here earlier, but we forced her to go home and get some sleep."

Ginny gave Harry some time to grasp what she had been saying as she silently observed him. She took it as a good sign when he started to move in his bed, after being so still for days. His face was still contorted in pain, but he seemed to get stronger as the minutes passed.

"We are in St. Mungo's right now and you have been unconscious for four days. Help came just in time, and now, everyone is well. I'm so glad you're awake," she placed her hand in the headboard of his bed and looked at him in an almost motherly way, relieved and thankful that he was all right. "You scared me."

Harry took in his surroundings after finally being able to open his eyes without squinting due to the light. Talking still seemed to be an ordeal and he was glad that Ginny was being kind enough to supply him with information. The pain was still present, although he noted that it was starting to subside, and he was more able to keep everything in check. His mind was starting to clear again, only to have torrents of questions flooding him, that he did not know where to start.

Ginny took her place back in the chair by Harry's bed, somehow feeling pleased that she decided to stay after all. She did not expect him to wake up under her watch. But nevertheless, she thought it was somehow a good thing. "Mum was in here earlier, but she and Ron went to get some food."

"I'm sorry… for the inconvenience."

"No, not at all. How are you feeling? Does it hurt to speak?"

He nodded slightly. She offered to call a Healer then, but he merely moved his uninjured hand and told her that it was all right.

They were silent for a while. Ginny, observed him and waited in case he needed any help, and Harry, suddenly felt awkward after remembering with great clarity what had just transpired.

It's _over_. It was all over. Yet he still could not believe it. He knew he was no longer trapped in an illusionary world, for the pain was more real than anything he could grasp. And yet, things still seem to be … too different. It was as if he expected to wake up in the little house by the sea, with Hermione by his side. It was only now that reality started crashing back with a vengeance. They were back in London… to reality.

Ginny noted how Harry's expression changed. His breathing started to become a bit erratic as well. Perhaps it was no longer due to the pain. Perhaps things were starting to sink in.

The truth was that she remembered everything as well – in fact, she might have remembered more than she should have. Things seemed to fall into place when she first saw them together in Rippleshack; and what she heard, albeit unintentionally, a few days ago was only the icing on the cake. The intensity of those words… those emotions, was something she had never seen before in the years she knew him. Because even when they were together, he never really acted in that way… and now she realized why, although she had been nothing but an unwanted witness, she felt something nonetheless.

She touched his shoulder without saying a word, yet the gesture spoke volumes for Harry. He looked up to her, eyes a bit tearful but without actual tears. The emotions were reburied deep down his heart, his very soul, yet the pain ordered it to break free, screaming for mercy, screaming for release. But would she understand? She did not really know what was in his heart, did she?

Ginny tilted her head slightly, as she nodded to him, as if prodding him to let go. She was unsure of what he would do, or what she wanted him to do. She just continued to hold on to his shoulder, eyes fully focused on his. It was almost as if she peered through him, and saw his own soul in a way that he never understood before. In their silence, she touched him, letting him get a glimpse of the windows to her own soul, hoping to tell him that in that brief moment, they had some sort of connection they had long ago.

Harry breathed in heavily, suddenly looking as if his chest were bound by a thousand chains. His face was still contorted with pain, but now of a different kind. Ginny knew that nothing could soothe him now.

"I heard everything, Harry. You did what you had to do, and everything is back in its place." She whispered calmly, hoping to ease the pain somehow, "It will get better, I know it will."

He looked away and bent his head, remembering the tears in Hermione's eyes, remembering how she sounded so… broken.

"I have hurt her… again." He closed his eyes shut, hoping to block away the thoughts, the image of her crying before him.

Not knowing what else to do, she placed hands on his head, stroking his hair slightly, remembering how her brothers used to do so whenever she needed the comfort. "Hermione is not a fool, Harry. She wanted that life as much as you did – and that was exactly why it pained her so much. She always debated on how she should decide things, and she always picked her mind over her heart that she often forgets that logic won't make her happy. When I saw the two of you in the coast, I was surprised at her light-hearted approach on things; it was as if she wasn't the Hermione I knew."

"But it was real, Gin. _She_ was real."

"I know, that is why it hurts so much," she replied knowingly. It was odd, but somehow she felt pain in her own heart. If years ago, someone told her that the boy of her dreams would fall for his best friend, then she'd be jealous, because she loved him. But now, now she realized how much she felt for Harry, how much she wanted everything to be better for him… here was the person who deserved to be happy more than anyone else in the world. "It's funny, huh? How we never get all things we want…" she said, trying force out a chuckle.

"Yeah," he replied, forcing a smile, "it still doesn't get any better though."

She wanted so much to comfort him right now, to hold him in her arms so that he would know she was there for him, but she didn't know if he would let her. "… I never thought it will take you this long," she started, twiddling her thumbs, a bit nervous that she brought it up.

"What do you mean?" he replied, frowning.

"To realize it's her, I mean. People always thought you two will end up together, but you always shrugged them off."

"Oh." It was the only reply he could think of. For years, Hermione had been a constant figure in her life that he thought knowing she was there was enough reassurance for him. Now, everything was different… he was different.

"… I never thought I'll ever hear you say those words to anyone, you didn't say them to me… not even once." Ginny continued. It had been five years since the two of them broke up, and still they remained as friends. Ginny would often barge into his doorstep whenever she had time after practice, and Harry would often attend her matches. They were good friends… and she realized they were happier after they broke up. "But I am happy you finally did, really."

"I'm sorry, Gin," he said, ashamed.

"What? _Don't _Harry. Our time has long passed. We already moved on," she replied. She was happier now, contented. She was dating someone, another team's Seeker. She knew there was a time in her life when she often asked why she wasn't enough for Harry, why all her efforts seem to go to waste. She did all she could to make him realize she was there, but then she realized, she was a part of his heart… but she didn't own it.

And Harry still chose to seek comfort in Hermione's arms, he always did. She could recall all too well how she saw him cry in Hermione's shoulders during that day when they buried the people they loved. And even afterwards, even if he chose not to talk about it, he shared a connection with Hermione that she never understood… something that was unique to the two of them. It only took one look, and they could see each other's souls, feel what the other one felt. Sometimes, she knew it was enough to comfort Harry... she knew _she_ was enough to comfort him.

It was something that she thought she would learn to do in time. Years ago, they decided to try it again… to be together. Though they were still grieving, Ginny thought being with Harry would ease the pain. She thought she would be his strength, and he, hers. But it never did work out in the end. They were too caught up with the war… and at the end of it.

It was then that Ginny realized, she was not who Harry needed. "I am happy now than I was five years ago, all because of what you taught me. You know Harry, there was a time I thought I could make you happy, I tried you know. I think that it is the only disappointment I had in our relationship."

Harry chuckled bitterly then, remembering those days when he acted like a prat to everyone. "I, er – it wasn't your fault, you know. I just acted like a prat back then, too caught up with my own issues that I forgot that you needed me... that you were there for me."

"Don't worry about the past too much. I am glad it happened, even though not all things ended well. That time, I wasn't the person you needed, and I understood it. We were both broken, and we needed someone to fix us… but we couldn't do that to each other, not when we both had our issues to fix. It is not fair if we tried but our hearts were not in our relationship."

"I know, and I am sorry."

"Don't be, Potter. I am glad it happened, even if it lasted only for a while. At least, you noticed my efforts. And now, we're closer than ever."

It was then that he allowed a small smile to erupt on his lips. It was true. They've been like siblings during the past years. He was there when she needed him, and he helped her train for her Quidditch matches. After that one year of struggle, they got closer, they got to know each other in a way that they never did during the time they were together. He finally let her in, and she was happy.

But now though, now, it was different. Ginny could see clearly that even though they were talking and he was finally telling her his feelings, his heart was still cloaked with sadness for all that happened. It was when the silence became too thick that she realized how much Harry had been keeping in. It was then when she didn't even think, when she wasn't even afraid that he'll push her away as she held him in her arms.

"What should I do now?" Never had Ginny seen him like this, so broken and hurt and sad. Even during the war when he shut them off, never did his feelings lay bare, never did he felt like a child with no idea what he should do.

She held him closer as she found the resolve to give him some answers. Then, she closed her eyes as she was crushed in pain. "Harry, there is something you need to know."

He looked up to her with confused eyes and for a moment, she felt like she could not do it after all. Did she have the strength to add another painful truth? Shaking her head, she focused on doing what she thought was right. "That time, you told her that she can forget."

He looked away for a while, the confusion and pain in his eyes still not subsiding. He nodded slowly, urging her continue.

"Well Harry… she did," she regretted it when she realized what she had just done. Somehow she felt like she just worsened his wound instead of healing it. "You were bound to know it sooner or later. It is better for you to know it now."

He was still, so very still that Ginny started to doubt if he even heard her at all.

"She woke up thinking her poisoning never happened. It was as if she just slept through the past few weeks." She looked away; suddenly feeling like it was not right to look at him while he was most vulnerable. "She does not remember it. She was asked many times by Ron, but she couldn't reply. She completely forgot whatever it was that happened when you were together."

She had forgotten? Hermione had forgotten her past once, it did not seem so surprising that she could go through it again. It took a while before the words sunk in. They had lived on borrowed time. Maybe he was the one who slept and spent the past few weeks in a dream. The reality he claimed to exist now only remains true for him. He knew it was bound to end sooner or later, yet he never knew it would end this way.

Now he could go on with his life as if nothing happened. What more could he ask for?

She could no longer remember anything from that game they played. She had forgotten everything, that house by the sea, that sandcastle by the shore. Maybe… he should begin forgetting as well.

_She has forgotten everything_. The words kept repeating itself in his head. It pained him and suddenly, he realized that the past tragedies in his life paled in comparison to what he felt now. He never thought he could be so weak, he never knew he could be silly enough to succumb to the false promises of love.

He shook as he cried silently and Ginny never knew that Harry was capable of so much sadness. Maybe he did not even know he was even crying at all. Would he feel the comfort though? she wondered, as she replaced her hand on his head.

"Harry, listen to me," she started, trying to make him look at her. "Listen to me," she said, and this time, Harry had no choice but to face her. She looked at him, at his teary face… at those sad emerald eyes.

"She will remember," she said, her own tears now falling without her even realizing. It was the first time she saw Harry this open, this vulnerable, and she never thought that it would cause her so much sadness. There was a time when she wished he would open up to her, tell her what was wrong and how he felt – but now she regretted it, for she only saw grief and sadness. "We'll make her. She'll remember you and how you made her happy. She'll remember how you held her and made her smile."

The tears kept on falling down his eyes, and she remained silent, no longer knowing what more to say. It took some time before it finally stopped yet it was clear to see that it was far from over.

Harry shook his head, wiping away his tears. "No. She doesn't need to remember… don't make her."

"Why, Harry? Don't you want to make her see how much you love her?" Ginny said despairingly.

Harry wanted to, oh he really wanted to. But things were different now. She didn't remember him and their game. He was back to being Harry, that even though he loved her, he knew that the situations had changed.

With a sigh, he broke the hug and looked at Ginny. As he let his tears fall, he produced the saddest smile, a smile of someone who already gave up. "…because James and Lily are already dead."

* * *

_The common room was quiet. _

_It was the end of the Halloween feast, and the students already went to bed because it was already late. Ron was already snoring away in dreamland, too caught up with the events of today that he fell asleep almost instantly when he flopped into his bed that even if Harry wanted to talk, he knew he should let the other boy be._

_He too, was too caught up with the events of today. It was only hours ago when they defeated a full-grown troll. They were scolded for their efforts, all right, but it did not stop the feeling of satisfaction he had when he realized he protected someone. As he lay awake on his bed, the memories of the incident kept repeating themselves in his head._

_He finally gave up on sleeping after an hour or so, his mind swirling with so many things. He stood up, picked a random book from his trunk, and descended down into the common room. _

_What he didn't expect though, was that the fireplace was still lit, and a certain, bushy-haired girl was comfy sitting in the couch, her nose still stuck on the book she was ready._

_He couldn't help but smile at the sight. He knew she was bossy, he knew she was a bit too focused on her studies, but he liked her nonetheless. Sure, he never downright talked to her that much, and he never hung out with her, but it was because he was shy… and he didn't want to be chased away in favor of her books._

_Hermione seemed to realize he was there after a few minutes or so, and it startled her. Harry thought she was a bit nervous and embarrassed, after all, he would be too, if caught awake in the middle of the night._

"_Can't sleep?" he started, smiling at her. His voice masking his nervousness._

_She nodded at him and sat up straight, offering him a seat on the couch. He gave her a grin and sat beside her, glad that at least she offered her company to him. _

_Silence seemed to follow the two of them as Hermione continued reading her book, which was about tomorrow's… or rather, later's Transfiguration lesson. He sat nervously beside her as he observed how she concentrated on her task, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the scene and admire her dedication, his own book forgotten in his lap._

_Hermione couldn't concentrate on reading her book though, when she realized Harry was looking at her. She didn't know how to start a conversation with the boy who thought about her and saved her from a troll, even if it meant risking his own skinny hide. She was embarrassed to be found crying in the girl's loo, but she was more nervous because he was here, trying his utmost to catch her attention. She didn't want him to think that she was pushing him away, but she also didn't know what to do. Her mind was in a state of panic._

… _until she heard him clear his throat._

_She lowered her book and reluctantly faced him, offering a smile. He gave one of his lop-sided grin and she blushed._

"_I, er – about what happened," he started, that Hermione had no choice but to look at him in the eye. She noticed that even in the night, his eyes were a bright emerald, but what surprised her more was the sincerity she saw in them. "I thought, er – we could be friends."_

_Hermione's eyes widened that all she could do for a few seconds was stare at him, dumbfounded. Why would he want to be friends with her when she clearly was just a bookworm with an attitude problem? she asked herself, intrigued at this boy who was sincerely, and expectantly, she might add, waiting for her answer._

"_Why do you want to be friends with me? I thought –" _

"_Sshhh," he cut her off, looking at the boy's dormitory, "it doesn't matter what happened. I just thought it will be brilliant if you became my friend."_

"_But why?"_

_Harry grinned at him and pinched her cheek playfully. "It is because I want to, silly. You don't have to have a reason to be friends with someone. I know you're a bit nervous, but you don't have to be, I don't bite, really."_

_How did he know she was nervous? She thought. She even tried her best to look nonchalant when he entered. She didn't even react when he sat beside her._

"_It's nothing, really, I just can see it in your eyes."_

_She stared at him for the longest time, and realized after a while that, Harry's eyes were getting a bit nervous as he squirmed under her gaze. Then, she held out her hand with a huge smile in her face, "Ok then, friends."_

"_Friends," he repeated, grinning at her as he took her into his arms. Hermione couldn't help but feel surprised, but nevertheless, she felt happy at Harry's gesture as she returned his hug. It was warm, he was warm… and comfy. After all, it was not every day that you become friends with someone such as him – someone so pure and selfless and brave. And he wanted to be friends!_

_And for Harry's case, he was happy that he gained another friend, someone who would always be there for him in the future, who would be constant in his life. Ron would find it difficult to adjust with Hermione with them, but he didn't care… and that made a difference._

_It would take Ronald Weasley quite some time to be friends with Hermione Granger, but for Harry Potter, it only took quite a few hours. After all, they had a certain connection, something that was unique to the two of them, because they chose to be friends, sincerely, irrevocably, truly._

_"...And by the way Harry, your hands are shaking," she grinned._

* * *

**Author's Notes: **The last part of this chapter was a made-up scene I kinda imagined after Harry and Ron saved Hermione from the troll. I know it is a bit short and all but this was the scene I really wanted to see. Of course, Ron will not be in it, lol. But yeah, it is easy to write and imagine Harry and Hermione in this kind of setting. Let me know your opinions please! More back stories will be revealed soon, along with the reason why Harry is somewhat distant! Review means love. :)


	17. Chapter 16: Thoughts Unspoken

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Thank you to those who took their time to review this, you don't know how much it meant to me as an author. Thank you for the time you are spending just to read this and for all the faves/alerts and reviews. I feel so giddy when I check my mail. :)

And here, one by one, the bombs will be thrown.

* * *

**Chapter 16: Thoughts Unspoken**

_And I've lost who I am, and I can't understand._

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

Peace and quiet was all she wanted and yet it seemed as if it was too much to ask. Being a head of a department in DMLE had its quirks, yet it had also been difficult for her. Many other officials had come and went; filing cases, making proposals, giving advices… everything was business as usual for the Ministry of Magic. She was tired of the endless paper works and meetings, and the many petty problems addressed to her were somehow weighing her down. For a while, she thought about her life in Hogwarts, how Harry, Ron and her used to have fun even when they were busy… she wanted to return to those times when they were frolicking in the castle in the middle of the night, hidden by Harry's invisibility cloak, or when they went inside the kitchens to get some food – anything, just to escape. Yet, she knew she couldn't, not without proper reasons, not when she was needed. Nevertheless, when she finished looking through the papers in her desk, she finally decided that she had enough for the day.

She walked gracefully as she went out of her office, nodding at every person she passed by – the tiredness, frustration and boredom did not even taper her grace as she smiled at them brightly. She was Hermione Granger after all. It had been years since the war, and even if she had been known as one of the Golden Trio initially, she had made quite a reputation for herself these past few years – by fighting for the rights of people and creatures alike. People looked up to her and admired her, they were grateful for her deeds. She worked hard during the past few years to make them realize the value of Magical Britain, so that they could rebuild a better one.

She must feel satisfied. She must _be_ satisfied. But frankly, she wasn't.

When she was at Hogwarts, she never thought she would work for the Ministry – she wanted to become a Healer, or maybe someone who would help develop something, or a professor – anything but a Ministry official. But after the war, she realized that maybe, she could make a difference. Maybe, her voice would reach out to the people and they would realize the value of what she was fighting for, give a better future for the generations to come. She started by helping people that were ravaged by the war, until she realized that she needed to do more.

All her efforts brought her here – when she had to be strong, when she had to believe and have faith… she did. And now, her hard work was paying off.

There was no time for _Hermione_ now, not now.

To think she spent several weeks away from London. Thankfully, it did not cause any crisis, even if there was a pile of work to be done… and she had the Minister and her friends to thank for that. But before she could think of what she could do to thank them, she couldn't help it as her mind drifted to how the moments in her life were fleeting and how precious things kept drifting away. It was so hard to keep holding on – it was very painful to hold on to something that had passed.

She woke up days ago feeling as though nothing was amiss, yet she realized something was wrong before she was even told. It was an odd feeling, almost like telling a lie without even knowing the truth. Also, there was something she longed for, something she couldn't quite understand… but she felt. She knew she could ask for nothing more right now, and yet she yearned for it, as if life was not complete without it, whatever it was.

It honestly was an odd feeling.

It gnawed her insides, made her question why she felt nostalgic for some reason. But she knew some feelings were more… _definite_, and she figured that she should focus more on them… more on now than that which had passed.

She was glad to see her friends and family. The last time she saw her parents was a week before she lost her memories, and they were so happy when they saw her; and the last time she saw her friends together was during Christmas Eve. They were still the same – childish, enthusiastic and full of humour, yet having them around her made things seem a bit lighter.

But someone was bothering her – Harry. He had been very withdrawn recently, only talking when he had to, his gaze seemingly too far away. She was told that she spent the past few weeks under his care and yet, she couldn't remember even pieces of their time together. It was strange, and a bit twisted, now that she thought about it, how she spent time with him without knowing her past, only to remember everything and forget what happened when they were together. She knew it was not so much of a peculiarity, for she trusted Harry with her life and she knew him since they were eleven. She should be grateful that it was actually him who was given the task – and be happy that everything was well.

Maybe that was where the strange feeling came from – something so familiar was now something she knew very little of. She knew she had absolutely nothing to worry about, for surely Harry was more than capable of handling the situation – she was her best friend. Although everything changed after the war, that remained constant, something she held on to… even if she felt that they had drifted apart.

Everything… everything was just like the old days… except for the fact that some things would never be the same. Guilt gnawed Harry after the war, and it was always the reason why they fought. It always frustrated her to no end that he did not want to talk about it, that he'd rather carry everything by himself… But they always got by this… they always had.

His stay in St. Mungo's was brief; in fact, she still hadn't _really_ talked to him that much. Yet she knew it was a trivial matter to be upset with. She had thanked him for all he had done… but she knew that something was odd.

Then, she realized that somehow, even with her inquiring look, it only took one look at his eyes to see that things would be better this way… with words left unsaid.

Oddly, the words seemed to stab her heart. And without even thinking, she looked behind and saw nothing but an empty space. Of course, she thought, shrugging. He was back to his department… maybe he was on a mission, but she knew he was still back… back to his duties, to where he belonged.

Knowing this made her feel lonely. She stopped walking and snapped out of her thoughts when she finally reached the café; it had been a while since she last went here. Tentatively, she stepped inside and took a seat near the glass windows, where she was greeted by a familiar waitress. She smiled at her and gave her order, all the while asking herself why she came alone when she usually invited Harry and Ron here. Then, as she settled down and inhaled the scent of the café, a familiar tune started playing on the wireless and she couldn't help but remember things from long ago….

"_Harry, this is the twelfth time you stepped on my foot! Honestly! We've been doing this for days!" she exclaimed, exasperated that he still hadn't mastered the steps. She went into the direction of the music box once again and replayed the song. "Okay, try stepping your left foot back when the song starts. That way, you won't step on your partner's foot during the dance."_

_The Yule Ball was only but a few days away now, and between homework, studying and teaching Harry how to dance, she didn't know what she should do first. But once again, here she was, practicing with him in an empty classroom after dinner, teaching him the steps as patiently as she could._

_He looked at her and gave her a grin as they glided through the dance floor once again, his hand were on her waist, their gaze on each other. She couldn't help but smile though, because she knew that Harry was doing his best, even though he was having trouble with it since this wasn't his forte._

_She tried to guide him, telling him what he should do as the song progressed. Once in a while, she would give him some instructions and laugh at his mistakes, then he would look at her and laugh too, trying to enjoy. Then, when he realized that he had already lost his concentration, he gave up and made his own dance steps, taking Hermione with him. He put both of his hands on her waist and lifted her up to twirl her, and she laughed. Then, they both tried to do some goofy steps, one more absurd than the other. And then, the song ended and neither of them realized it, too caught up in the moment to even acknowledge its existence._

_Both of them sat down, laughing as they settled down at their respective seats. _

"_Wow," Harry started, still laughing._

"_That was the best dance I had in years!" Hermione exclaimed, out of breath._

"_Well, I guess we need to rest first, if we want to have another go for the real steps," Harry suggested, slumping on his chair._

"_I guess you're right, we definitely need to rest first. I still have to study my essay on Transfiguration after this, I'll need the extra energy."_

"_I still haven't done it," Harry said honestly._

"_Well then, I'll help you with the framework so you will just have to follow it," she proposed, smiling at him._

_Harry smiled, grateful for all the help Hermione has given since the whole competition began. He got to know her more these past few months – how she bit her lip as she studied, how she laughed when he told her a joke... and as he looked at her, still slumped in her seat as she tried to recover her breath, he knew he was very lucky to have someone like her – someone who understood him, someone who loves him for who he was._

_Reluctantly, he opened his mouth to speak, to at least tell her that he was grateful for everything, that if ever she would need him, he would always be there for her... but something was caught on his throat and suddenly, his heart was beating fast, and he couldn't help but feel nervous. He wasn't exactly known for his expressiveness._

"_Hermione?" he started, feeling the lump on his throat grow as every second passed._

"_What is it, Harry?" she asked, her eyes bright with curiosity._

"_Er – thanks… for everything," he started, clearing his throat, "If you, er – ever need me, I'm, er – here."_

_With his words, Hermione couldn't help but feel something warm creep up on her cheeks. Rarely did Harry express his emotions like this, and she was overjoyed that his eyes were glowing with sincerity at what he told her this. With a smile, she stood up and hugged him. _

"_I promise I'll be there when you need me, so don't hesitate, okay?" he said, returning the hug._

"My best friend," she whispered to herself as she remembered the distant memory. The smile lingered in her face even as the song faded, putting the memory behind her once more.

It was strange, almost frightening, how years could make one forget. It was almost sad how the many events of her life changed everything. It seemed so simple back then, carefree.

A friend could be so much more, she thought, and time was not the only factor. This status, her questions, his promise – how did she ever forget such a simple memory from her past?

She buried her face in her hands. What was she thinking, she asked herself. She lost all this, all her memories in a blink of an eye – all because of some potion. How much had she really forgotten? How much was she actually missing?

Trying to find would be futile, for everyone kept their mouth shut about the incident… and the only person who could wasn't really keen on telling her. She had to be strong once again, she had to believe that everything would be all right. Losing a part of her past may not be an awful thing. After all, people grow, people move on.

It was a melancholic feeling… it was even sadder to think that she was probably the only one feeling this.

And yet, maybe, just maybe… Harry also felt the same way.

* * *

"All right," the Healer said, tapping his shoulder twice to indicate that he could put his shirt back on. He obliged silently, nodding, his eyes wide with anticipation as he waited for the Healer's verdict. The Healer went back to her desk to examine his records and smiled, "Well, your body is doing all right. And so far, I have seen nothing new from the tests."

"So… will I be able to work on missions again?" he asked, silently wishing that the Healer would agree. He wasn't known for following a Healer's orders, and hadn't really been doing so until... well, that moment.

"As much as I would love you to lie low and get more rest, I think it is safe to say that you may, provided that you take care of yourself. You haven't been skipping on your potions, right?"

Harry nodded. He was used to the bitter taste of the vile liquids. He had been drinking ten of them for three years, every single day.

"Well, if that is the case, you're free to go, Harry. Come back for your routine check-ups and always remember to take all those potions in their proper time, all right?"

"Don't worry too much, Daphne, I'll try," he said, smirking. With one clean swoop, he went down the examination table and fetched his robes, murmuring a goodbye to her as he went back to the Ministry.

He was… relieved, because they finally allowed him to go out and join his fellow Aurors in the missions. It was his job… something definite in his life, and he was glad that he got it back.

Because never in his life had he felt so lost… not since those dreadful days back in the tent, not since the death of two of his comrades long ago. Since his last mission, he spent countless days and nights in the wide office of his Department… a lost sheep among the flock. He never knew exactly what he was supposed to do… what he should be doing, yet he followed the Head Auror's orders and remained in the office for the time being, until he was well enough.

Ironically, the hood that hid his face when he was up guarding some official somehow comforted him that he actually got used to it. And yet everything else – the paper works he had to do, his comrades, this office, or even his department's description – everything was just so different.

Had there been a war, the Auror Office would have specialized in espionage and other functions involving stealth. While it seemed more peaceful, it was actually too dirty – for it was part of their job to make sure that the mess was cleaned up to keep everything in order. While there were currently no wars or insurrections (as his department was in charge of making sure there really were none) everyone still had to work, both secretly and openly, to resolve petty matters and put a cork on everything else that might possibly cause public hysteria.

While this kind of job would, as Kingsley put it, further the cause of peace in Magical Britain, another one of his friends (particularly Ron) would simply say that it really was _not his style._ He had been raised as a fighter, and this kind of work, this kind of life was harder to get used to than he initially thought.

But at least, the work kept him preoccupied. Everything ends – intellectual banters, fatal duels, assassination attempts – before one can actually realize that it had actually commenced. He was often on his toes, and yet there was a certain kind of monotony to it that sometimes he wished for more things to come… just for him to somehow feel alive.

Alive.

It was such an ambiguous word – one he had seen in thousands of case reports he had browsed the past few days. The department concerns itself with the statuses of dark wizards, rebels, or even heroes. His department was in charge of keeping some of them alive while others had to be locked up, as if they never even existed. With life seeming to be more inconstant than he had ever imagined, he started wondering what constitutes being alive in the first place. Did he ever live at all?

Of course he knew the answer – it was just not one of those things he should think about.

Other matters needed his attention – the trial at the Wizengamot that involved the men they had captured during the last mission, further investigations in the Ministry about the people who were really involved, reinstalling some of the major wards to protect officials…

The past few months' events were no more than a bunch of unanswered questions now. Some called it an outrage to the Minister's reign, some a controversy, or even an act. It had been reduced to matters involving politics and all those _personal information_ he managed to keep had a value of no more than a mere fairytale. And because it was irrelevant, he, as an Auror, had no business thinking about it.

That fateful day in the cave left him with nothing but feelings no one would ever care about. Maybe the only tangible thing he had of any relevance was the scars in his back, and the large gash he had from his left rib going to his back and towards his waist. Other than that, he had nothing of importance – nothing.

Kingsley told him of what happened during his encounter with the man who started all this. He also told him of Callum's injured state when they found him buried in a pile of rocks. The Minister said he was all right now, and that he had returned to his home in the village near the sea.

_"This will keep her warm for awhile. Now, we have to go home and fix you up or else you'll bleed to death."_

Images suddenly flashed in his mind. He almost felt the sand in his feet.

"_Well, we were cleaning up when suddenly he said something about a mission… he left urgently after that…"_

"_A mission?"_

"_Ron… you do not think that…"_

"_It's too soon to think… or not think of anything."_

"Callum," He muttered, mostly to himself as he suddenly felt like he needed to check on him.

He wanted to make sure that he was all right but the thought of going back to the place… gave him mixed emotions for the place had an entirely new meaning for him now.

Must he go back? Could he go back?

Of course it would be much easier if he just sent someone to find out. Yet this was one of the things he simply should do… he was Harry's friend.

Must he go back? Could he go back?

He was just probably overcomplicating things. But still, thinking about it felt somehow wrong in his heart. He vowed never to return there, at least not alone. Yet he did not really have any other choice. It is not a matter of returning or looking back. The circumstances were all different. Heck, he was not even that same person that left.

But then again… he could never find it in his heart to let go.

* * *

"_So… do you mean that –" he started, agape, but he couldn't finish his question. This shouldn't be happening, he thought. After all this time, this… he couldn't believe it._

_The Healer smiled at him sadly, looking at his records. "For now, we can only hope the potions will stop the effects of the curse. Other than that, we don't really know what will happen next, Mr. Potter. I'm also sorry for the loss, they were good men."_

"_How much time?" he choked out. He felt dizzy, and his insides were squirming. This was too much… it was too much for him to bear._

_The Healer sighed. "We don't really know. We'll have to let you drink the potions for a month or so before we can make a prognosis. But judging from the state of things… I think you still have loads."_

_He nodded dully, too shell-shocked to even speak. A few minutes of agonizing silence passed, with the Healer patiently waiting for his next question… but he just sat there, his head dizzy with too much information that his mind tried so hard not to process. "I never thought… I… never realized –"_

_Had he known that it would end like this… then, he should've just let things be. He started thinking about the future, of his godson, his friends – would he even see them grow old before he went? How would he say this news to them? It was unfair._

_A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. It was followed by a muffled voice, one he would recognize anywhere. The Healer proceeded on walking towards the door, but he gripped her arm and looked at her pleadingly, "Don't' tell them."_

_The Healer nodded and Harry let her go as he looked down on his bed. Would it be possible to keep it from them? _

"_Harry!"_

_It was Hermione, hair dishevelled and still in her pajamas, her voice laced with worry. She scurried towards him and held his hand before Harry even acknowledged her presence. He stared at her in disbelief, wide-eyed and a bit shocked. "I heard about the accident. They said that two Aurors have been killed while pursuing a Death Eater. Are you all right? Are you really all right?"_

_Harry only nodded._

_She started checking his bandaged form, her eyes darting here and there to make sure he was whole. At first she examined her from head to toe, then she grabbed his hands, then she poked his face. If the circumstance wasn't at all serious, he would have laughed at her reaction. Halfway through her examination, he heard her breath out a relieved sigh and met her eyes, wide and worried. _

"_Oh, thank Merlin! Thank Merlin you are all right! Ron and the others should be arriving here at any second," she said, cradling his head in her shoulder as she let out a nervous laugh. He was so close, so close to dying. "Thank Merlin! I don't know what I would feel if i lost you."_

_It was only then that Harry closed his eyes and allowed a single tear to fall._

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Don't kill me! This was my intention all along. People often asked the reason why Harry acted the way he did and here is the answer. As for the details of the night when it happened, I may or may not write it up but I will definitely tell you a part of the reason why this concerns Hermione, other than the fact that she is his best friend. Some of you may hate the "Harry" in my story, but that is who he is, even in the books (hint, hint, running to the forest alone to die when he found out he was a horcrux... oooppps). My only explanation for this is, he didn't want people to freak out if they found out about this, didn't want Hermione and Ron to constantly worry or feel like time is running out aaaaand... wait for the next chapters, lol. But enough of my babbling, what are your thoughts guys? Hope you enjoyed the update! Please send your love on my way, I will need it. :)


	18. Chapter 17: Revelations

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Woohooo! Thanks for all the supports/reviews. I promise you, the loose ends will be tied one by one. :D I am one happy author. Keep sending me your love.

* * *

**Chapter 17: Revelations**

_Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding. _  
_Fall into your sunlight. _  
_The future's open wide, beyond believing. _  
_To know why, hope dies._

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

_She squinted as she happened to gaze on the light of the setting sun. The reddish glow was bright despite the grayish clouds creeping in from behind, hinting the end of another day. It had been a good day, she knew, as she felt the lightness in her heart, making all her troubles seem to be inexistent. She felt happy, elated even, that she just wanted to run…_

_She just wanted to run into his arms._

_She trudged on the white sand, quickening her pace, eager to be with him. The sea, the sand, the people around it all seemed to fade away. All that remained were the setting sun and he… who she was looking for._

_She could not wait to see his face… his elusive yet warm smile, his kind eyes, his unruly hair. She could not help but be fond of him. Will she ever get to tell him how much he meant to her? He made her life more pleasant. Being with him was the reason why she felt so happy._

_She truly must love him. How could she possibly forget him?_

_But where in the world was he? She was eager to tell him something… but then again, it's not something very important. She could not even remember anymore what it was. Maybe she'd remember everything once she sees him. What's more important is that she just wanted to see him, to reach him. She was almost there… she could feel it… she could…_

A tap in her shoulder was enough to jolt her awake. The light disappeared from her view and was replaced by darkness. She was confused at first when she opened her eyes, not really sure of what just happened until she saw people leaving in the office one by one.

She looked out the window and saw the playful clouds. She absorbed the view as she slowly pushed away the images that had just entered her head. She had that dream again, she thought, as she brushed away her hair from her face. While she did not find the recurring dream unpleasant, it did not entirely please her either as she was often left wondering whenever she awoke. The dream felt as though it were something more than a mere illusion in her head. It was almost as if it was a memory… a memory of a feeling…

Idly, closed her eyes and relished as the cool breeze of the evening wind passed her by. She always thought her heart had been the same way, cold. Memories of the time she shared with Ron still visited her from time to time, and yet the dreams she was having now… it elicited a different feeling from her altogether. She felt as though something, no, someone, was somehow toying with her heart.

She tried to shake off her thoughts as she stood up from her seat, fully knowing that she was in no position to think of fantasies, especially now that she was scheduled to submit another report to the Minister Shacklebolt, an image of a love-sick girl would not appropriately paint the picture.

Yet despite the images of cool, collected leader that she continually established (or at least tried to) in her head, visions of the calm sea, the soft sand, and that _familiar_ face continued to nag her. Realizing that she had to pull herself together before finishing her report for the conference, she opted to take a walk outside the Ministry to clear her mind.

She truly needed this, she thought, a calming walk in the wide streets. She did not know why the atmosphere she had established now seemed to suffocate her. The corridors of the Ministry seemed to be narrower than she thought it to be.

She yearned for the life she once had years ago, back at Hogwarts. While they never really experienced peace until now, her life had been filled with relatively quieter and carefree moments. And while she acknowledges the fact that she had accomplished so much, the lonely nights still get to her. Despite surpassing all expectations, sometimes she felt so alone at the top. Maybe it was that old life she yearned for, and maybe she missed… him, _Ron_, most of all. Maybe that was the reason why she had been having these recurring dreams. She figured that the man she was seeking couldn't be anyone else but him, after all, she never really had another serious relationship after him.

Oddly enough, while that was the answer her instincts provided her with, another part of her thought that it did not feel quite right. Did she not already come into terms with their break-up? She had already fully accepted that the man she loved wasn't him – she loved him, but only as a brother now. The time that had passed since then already helped her to move on. And yet _why?_ Why does she still have this heavy feeling in her heart, akin to that feeling she had when Ron broke up with her, and at the same time seeming like a different feeling altogether?

That time she had with him could be no longer than a moment, and she was possibly just letting her illusions, her wishes, her desires to augment it, making it seem grander than it had been. Sure, she knew it had been a loss, a very painful one at that, but it was not something that needed lingering. It was not something she possibly wanted to bring back to her life… because she did not know how life with him could have truly felt like in the first place. They broke up before they could ever truly know each other. How could she yearn to _bring back the feeling_ when she was clearly incapable of doing so?

_She did not know the feeling, she never felt it_.

Still. Why did it feel like she did?

It was probably just love. Surely she felt that one. Surely love meant something to her, at one point or another.

"Lily!"

She paused when she heard the familiar name. Instinctively, she searched the voice, without really expecting to be the woman he called for. Lily. Surprisingly, hearing the name after such a long while made her feel nostalgic. Somehow it felt bittersweet. He called out the name once more, and she finally saw the man looking at her intently. Amidst her surprise, their gazes met for an instant and the man, instead of looking away stood and ran to her instead. She was the Lily he called for? Yet who was he, she asked herself as she saw him getting closer.

He did not seem like a threatening man, in fact, he looked just as normal as normal could be. Despite his generalness, he looked somehow familiar and yet…

"Lily! It is you!" she was about to move away when she heard his words and her moment of hesitation made escape impossible. "Hey Lily! Don't recognize me now, huh?" he laughed as he lifted his hand to mess up his hair, "See? It's me, Locke!"

He looked genuinely happy to see her, and this caught her attention.

"Locke?"

It was possible that he might have mistaken her for someone else… But the way he looked at her made it seem unlikely.

"Yeah! Well actually, it's Bryan, I remember my name now. Oh boy, I really must have hit my head too hard, but then I think I want to keep Locke as my name now for old time's sake," he grinned then as he excitedly moved his hands for emphasis, "You know what, you were right! There really was someone waiting for me, I am so glad I made it back and I'm so glad I remembered everything before it was too late." She did not have the faintest idea what he was talking about, but his excitement seemed so real that she did not have the strength to tell him the truth.

"Where's Ja –" he stopped and bent down to whisper, "Where's James? I only just realized both of you had the same name as Harry Potter's parents. Wow, you two must really be destined for each other." He straightened up and had that cheerful expression once more. "What are you doing here? I'm really so glad to see you!"

James? Maybe he was talking about Harry, and yet it seemed that he didn't really know him at all. Was he pulling her leg? "He is away, on official business," she replied, for lack of anything better to say, deciding to ride along his game to know more about his motives. "Wait a minute, you said you fell and ended up in Rippleshack?"

Locke laughed and rubbed the back of his head timidly, "Yes, that's how it happened. I remember everything now. I'm lucky to be alive, and I'm lucky to be back." He then clasped his hands together and suddenly looked like he was begging, "Promise me that you and James would attend our wedding! We're just ironing out the plans, but it is to happen soon. Oh surely James would be back by then. Ha! That man can't stand being away from you, especially when Callum's around!"

From what she could gather, this man was from Rippleshack… the village… Did he possibly know of the memories she no longer had? And from what he was saying, Harry seemed to have been _guarding her strictly_ and … who is this… "Callum?"

"Oh yeah! He's here to meet one of his clients, or something like that. I know he's one of those higher ups – though he refused to tell me. That man takes his job too seriously, I tell you. But he's always goofing around with us in the coast."

The coast. The sea. The warm sunlight. That unknown face.

"Lily! Are you all right?" he then placed his hand on her shoulder, "You don't seem so well. You had a fight with James didn't you?"

He was being too friendly with her. Maybe the man had been misled. Perhaps he did not really know her after all. That's right, she was not herself when she lost her memory. She was probably living another life, and maybe… that was the person this man knew all along.

"Lily…?"

This was dangerous. It was one of those moments where retreat seemed to be the better option. While she wanted to know more, she was still feeling unsure on how to go about it.

"No, not at all. I – I'll tell him that I've met you once I see him," she reached out to pat him on the shoulder, albeit awkwardly, "Very well, I need to go. I have to attend to some important matters, I'll see you again, when it is possible."

His cheerfulness dwindled as he heard her speak, and his bright eyes were now filled with confusion, "Oh… all right then…" She hurriedly walked away and he just stood there, trying to figure out just what happened.

"People truly are acting strangely this week," he mumbled to himself as he watched Hermione's getting farther and farther, until he could not tell her apart from the crowd. He scratched his chin semi-consciously as he tried to figure out what could have gone wrong. "At least I'm back to normal."

Hermione on the other hand took hurried steps towards her office as more questions continued to pile up in her head. She did not know where she could get all the answers, but somehow she knew that she could always start from somewhere.

Her heart suddenly felt like it was throbbing once more, as thoughts of the feeling she had came back. That mysterious man, that sea, that coast. She already made all sorts of conclusions in her head, yet she still ended up so lost and confused…

"You'd better be there," she mumbled to herself as she found herself running, almost like in her dream_._ Thoughts of that _elusive yet warm smile, kind eyes,_ and_ unruly hair_ filled her head once more._ when I will try to find you someday_, she added silently, still not really knowing who he was, yet nevertheless not realizing she was actually getting closer than she thought.

* * *

"Déjà vu,"

Ron nodded victoriously as he remembered the word he was looking for. He had been sitting for a while in his cubicle inside the Auror office. It was in this time years ago when he waited for Harry to come back, and now he did not mind it that much. Harry Potter was famous, he was also quite a busybody. Nevertheless, despite the similarities, waiting for him this time had many marked differences. Firstly, he was now the one officially nominated as the Tactician in the office, not Harry being promoted as the Captain of one of the Auror Squads and secondly, he was here because of a failed attempt to make Harry and Hermione talk some _real _words, not some gibberish consisting of nodding and a bunch of nervous smiles and excuses.

Yet, he also knew that Harry had a lot on his mind, and pushing him as he did last time might actually do more harm than good. Things between Harry and Hermione these last few years had never been easy to understand, and he didn't know if it would ever get easier.

Not without some help from his friends.

He got some paper from the desk as he started to form the sentences in his head.

"Dear Luna," he wrote, his fingers seemingly used to the strokes, "I hope this letter finds you well. Pigwidgeon is actually excited to have something to do. I am writing this here in the office, waiting for Harry." Ron lifted his hand, purposely stopping himself from writing when he felt warmth behind his ears. After rationalizing everything in his head, he figured that he was merely over-thinking. Hoping to focus back on the task at hand, he continued, shifting the topic to Harry.

"I know you are concerned about Harry; rest assured he is doing better now. Then again, it is noticeable that he is all barmy." Ron stopped once more, this time, thinking about how to phrase it to let Luna know of the current situation, "Just this morning, I visited him in Grimmauld out of Hermione's orders, making excuses so that we can go to work together. Andromeda reaffirmed Hermione's suspicion of his worsening condition, he looks like a walking skeleton! But seriously though, how can he not love food? It is heaven's most precious gift to us!"

Ron re-read what he had written so far and nodded, satisfied. After recomposing himself, he then continued, "Moving on to other matters, I am pleased to tell you that investigations on the last mission have been progressing well."

Several weeks had passed since the incident and things returned to their normal state. "I suppose I'll go ask Hermione if she will like to join me for a bite to eat later, if I can't ask Mr. Grumpy. I hope you are enjoying on your trip, wherever you are!"

Ron re-read what he had just written and nodded to himself. He then placed the pen on the table and stretched out a bit when he heard some people arguing.

"I don't know if this really is the thing you're looking for, but I'm telling you, this is a dangerous matter, let's leave it as is!"

He glanced up and saw Daphne Greengrass walking briskly from the opening the front door, seeming to be headed to the adjacent room. As the Healer disappeared from his view, he saw another man tailing him from behind, holding what seemed to be empty bottles in his hand.

Ron dazedly stood up from his seat. His mind went on an overdrive, wishful thinking and rationality clashing in his head all at once. He knew this matter must concern that last mission, and the object the man was holding aptly piqued his curiosity. He just had to know more. His instincts told him that he had to follow Daphne and the man, even if he had to resort to spying.

With this he stood up, his letter and sentiments all but forgotten.

* * *

People in the Ministry truly were oddly spontaneous, he thought, and Daphne Greengrass wasn't any different. First, the Healer seemed indifferent when she saw him, although it could have just been her poker face, considering he was in the middle of an engagement with a bunch of other old and important looking people at that time. She excused herself and finally attended to him with what then seemed to be enthusiasm in her voice. Yet when he said that "I know Harry is unwell," and showed him empty bottles as his proof, the Healer's expression fell and she suddenly seemed so distraught. He did not know if it had been his uttered words that that caused this, or if it had been because of the items he was holding, but whatever it was, he knew he knew he had to find out the truth.

"Are you positively sure that this is the remnants of the potions?" the Healer spoke finally after she locked the door of the Head Auror's office and placed the files she had to submit on top of his desk. "Seriously Callum, I know you mean well and all… but this? How did you manage to know I am Harry's Healer anyway?"

He never really anticipated such an adverse reaction from the witch. But then again, he supposed the effects that accompanied the thing's usage had been anything but typical. Of course, as an average former Auror who did spy jobs on the side, he could easily find this out. He was not stupid, he had been spying Harry for the past month, and he knew that drinking ten potions a day meant bad news.

But what can he do? He shook his head and dropped the bottles in the Head Auror's table. "Are you the one who made him drink huge doses of rainbow-colored, nasty liquid every day?"

The Healer sighed, a bit hesitant to tell him that she did, and that she didn't want to talk about it. "He does, it is only for maintenance and it is not permanent."

"Do you seriously think I will believe you?" Daphne sat down and leaned back on the chair as she looked at the empty bottles on his hands. Callum was capable of doing many things, she knew, but he didn't have to delve deeper to one of his subjects. And besides, she promised Harry.

"Auror Potter," he said, looking at her directly in the eyes, "is he sick or not? Tell me the truth!"

The Healer frowned, still not looking pleased with what was happening before him. She had always been good at lying, but this one was just too hard to lie at.

"Fine, I don't expect you to answer me, but I'm just saying…" he took another look at her face and sighed, "Never mind. Forget it. I suppose I'm just lucky to be alive. Get rid of these; play with them, I don't care. I just don't want to have anything to do with it."

Tentatively, Daphne reached out to touch them, her lips pursed at the aspect of someone knowing Harry's secret. "I'm sorry, Callum, I can't tell you. I made a promise."

"So… there's a possibility that it is true then, that he may also be someone who got inflicted by _that _curse, like my parents?"

Daphne remained impassive, unable to answer. She wanted to tell her childhood friend about Harry's state, but she knew that she was under a promise. She valued patient confidentiality, especially for someone who was as well-known as Harry Potter.

Callum grumbled under his breath for a moment until he finally sat down in a chair across her. "If ever – if ever he is inflicted with the curse, will there be a way to remove it?"

Daphne shook her head, making Callum's look stricken. He didn't want his friend to die, not like this... again.

"Well, we have to do something now, don't we?" Callum said with finality. "For the people inflicted, I mean."

"I… don't know," she started, saddened by the fact. "We can't, Cal. Even the Head of the Research Department still hasn't figured anything about this."

"The Research Department, huh?" visibly irked, Callum stood up and decided to leave the room, "I – forget it. Nice seeing you again, Daph."

"Callum, do not–"

But Callum already exited the room, having just magically vanished the empty bottles he had been holding, leaving a very disgruntled Daphne Greengrass who rested her forehead in her hand as she closed her eyes. "I'm sorry I can't tell you anything. I can only extend his life here, just like how the other Healers did for your parents."

Realizing she was now only talking to herself, she let out the breath she was holding and exited the room, too caught up with the situation that she failed to notice a dumbstruck Ronald Weasley hiding near the door.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Reviews? Opinions? :D Anyway I will be dropping everything in the last few chapters. Only a few more til we see the story's completion! Yay! And yes, there will be resolutions. Thanks all. :)


	19. Chapter 18: Empty

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and other associated adaptations used in this story line are not mine, they belong to brilliant authors who lent me the idea. :)

**Author's Notes: **Hello everyone! It took me a while to come back from the writer's grave but here is the next chapter! Me and Fanfictiondotnet had issues regarding posting new chapters and receiving emails and they took a bit before they responded to my query. Anyway, thank you all for the lovely reviews/favorites/alerts, I can't tell you all how happy I am! Please continue sending your love to the authoress. :)

* * *

**Chapter 18: Empty**

_I will not begin_  
_A fight that we can never win_  
_So I'm letting go_

_- Trading Yesterday_

* * *

_There was a park near the Grimmauld Place. It was nothing more than a patch of land containing some squeaky swings, a merry go round and an old slide. The grass was unkempt and there were only a few trees. But even with the condition of the said park, Harry and Teddy always took time to stop by every after they went to the market to buy goods. On this particular day though, Teddy specifically asked Harry to take him to the said park even if it wasn't market day. _

_He knew his godson was upset, but couldn't determine why. When he asked him, Teddy only replied that if he wanted to become a grown-up, he should learn to fix his own problems, like his teacher said. He sighed, how was he supposed to teach someone else it was okay to be a kid when he never really experienced being a kid himself? _

_Harry sat down on a bench and Teddy, solemn and quiet, sat beside him. It was the first time Teddy hadn't taken the opportunity to get on a swing. He was growing way to fast, Harry noticed. Six years ago he would never have guessed that he would have to worry about Teddy growing up; Harry didn't want him to grow up too fast but allowed him to balance both responsibilities and being a kid. Childhood was something he never got to enjoy, so it was something precious that Teddy would never get back once it was gone._

_Time passed quietly for both of them that when Harry realized Teddy wasn't going to budge, he did what he never thought he would do… he nudged his godson with his shoulder. "Come on." He stood on his feet and walked over the swing set. Then, he sat on one of the seats and slowly swung, not wanting to go too high for fear that the swing would snap under his weight._

_Teddy was on his feet but looked unsure so Harry reached out to the swing beside him and shook it. "Everybody needs to swing now and then," he said._

_Teddy grinned at his godfather, surprised with the sudden playfulness and warmth Harry was showing. After looking at Harry, who was carefully swinging a little higher, he came over and took the swing next to him. Harry watched him, his lips tugging to a smile of his own and they spent an hour more in the said playground before Teddy finally opened up. _

_"Uncle Harry, why hasn't Aunt Hermione visited us?" he asked Harry, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he looked on the ground._

_Harry was taken aback with the sudden question, unsure of how he would answer. He knew this would come, especially since Teddy shared a bond with Hermione that matched with his own. He started to open his mouth to speak, but only a sigh escaped his lips. How could he tell him that his Aunt Hermione had no memories of him? How could he tell a child that his Aunt Hermione couldn't play with him 'til she gets better? How could he tell him that he also had to go away for a few weeks?_

_"Aunt Hermione is… just busy lately," he started, running a hand through his hair._

_"But she never misses out a day to visit me even when she was busy," Teddy retorted, pouting._

_Harry gestured for Teddy to sit on his lap. The child complied and Harry hugged him as tight as he could as he rested his chin on the top of his godson's head. "Sometimes, there are things that grown-ups can't explain to you. Maybe when you're older"_

_This time, it was the six-year old boy who sighed. "Why do I have to be old to understand?" he asked._

_"Because…" Harry knew it would hurt Teddy to know that his Aunt Hermione didn't remember him. _

_"Because?" Teddy continued, as he shifted his weight so he could face his godfather. His eyes were hopeful for an answer and his hair turned mousy brown. "You can always tell me a secret, Uncle Harry, I promise I will be real quiet."_

_Harry smiled and ruffled his godson's hair. It would be hard to tell him about Hermione losing her memories but he would always try for Teddy. "Because… well, it is… hard to explain." He looked at the sky and struggled to finally tell him about his aunt's situation. "Aunt Hermione… she, erm, she doesn't remember who we are." _

_"Then we need to make her remember," Teddy said, not even asking why his Aunt Hermione doesn't remember anything about them. "Let's visit her and tell her stories, sing her lullabies. Maybe she can even color some pictures with me!"_

_It was something even Harry couldn't say no to. After their little bonding, they visited Hermione in St. Mungo's that same night. Harry was still anxious because he didn't know how he would start the conversation or how he could approach the situation. He watched as Teddy walked quietly over to Hermione, who was sitting in her bed, her eyes wide and disoriented. He picked up Teddy's voice, "Hello."_

_Hermione blinked at Teddy. "Hello there."_

_"Hello Aunt Hermione! You don't remember me, but will it be okay to sit with you?"_

_Hermione looked startled but she offered him a seat on the edge of her bed. "Here."_

_Teddy sat down beside Hermione and hugged her tight, much to Hermione's surprise. "You always hugged me tightly whenever I'm sad and now it's my turn take care of you Aunt Hermione."_

_Hermione's face crumpled, and after a long while, Harry saw as she smiled and tentatively returned Teddy's hug. _

_Seeing that both of them already warmed up to each other, Harry turned and walked over to where Molly and Andromeda were and took a seat right next to them. Andromeda watched her grandson with pride in her eyes. "Somehow, I think he'll be able to do more for her than any of us could," she said softly._

_Harry smiled as Teddy energetically told Hermione some stories, smiling with pride at his godson's ability to cheer people up. "Kids… they have an ability to do things that only they can do," he said. Kids inspired a lot in adults, Harry learned that much. When he felt sad or angry, all he had to do was look for Teddy and he would smile, no matter what the situation was. They gave hope and innocence and something to fight for… especially Harry._

_"He's an amazing little boy," added Molly. _

_Harry looked at the scene before him in awe. Teddy was still telling Hermione some of his adventures but this time, Hermione's eyes were gleaming; this time, Hermione was smiling as she listened to the little boy. Maybe he was right, Harry just had to make Hermione remember. _

* * *

The Auror glanced at the note wired to him by the Minister of Magic once more, as he found himself in the middle of the corridor filled with politicians, wondering faintly if he was actually supposed to be here. The Minister said that he was needed here immediately, albeit the details could not be disclosed as per security purposes. So he went here as fast as he could, and now he was wondering if he was merely fooled. The politicians and diplomats were scattered, discussing matters over a cup of tea. This was the kind of thing he always wanted to avoid, being a warrior by nature. But nevertheless, he found himself here, dressed in his standard Auror uniform, suddenly looking unwelcome and out of place.

It was not like the Minister to call for him under such a short notice. Nevertheless, Kingsley was a responsible man and he didn't take things lightly… surely there must be a reason?

"Auror Potter, how nice of you to have come here," he suddenly heard a man's voice from behind, surprising him.

Great. Just what he needed.

He was not new to such occasions, for he had participated in several gatherings and closed-door meetings in the past, but his presence was always either as a matter of courtesy due to his position in the Auror Office or because of his skills. He went through functions enough to know the proper decorum, and the agonizing small talk and superficiality that came with it. He had been trained to know that it was yet another battleground, with delicate mines that may be triggered with carelessness, and new enemies that may be vanquished through massive amounts of patience and tact. "It's good to see you, Mr. Weasley," he greeted, offering Percy a smile.

The two of them shook hands as Percy led him further to meet some of his comrades in the Ministry and then wandered off somewhere. As the head of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Spells, Percy had been a well-known figure in today's Ministry. Harry shook hands with people from Percy's department and after giving his greetings and salutations, he was about to excuse himself when a man spoke, "Today is quite special, I think. Minister Shacklebolt invited his fellow Ministers from France and US."

Ministers of both US and France… suddenly he remembered why he wanted to avoid these kinds of conference in the first place.

"Oh yes, yes. I remember talking to Ms. Hermione Granger from the DMLE about them coming here for some purposeful chat with regards to Minister Shacklebolt's plans to better Magical Britain."

"Miss Granger huh? I suppose many people from the Ministry are rooting for her to become the head of the DMLE in the near future, what with all her accomplishments and all. For all we know, this meeting may be about another set of rules she was able to pass. If you ask me, I don't want her to become the head of DMLE, and certainly not the head of Magical Britain."

"Even I would have to disagree with everyone's opinions. Whilst most certainly she is a really good asset to the current Ministry, I don't think everyone will agree to her campaigns."

"I couldn't blame you, after all, this is the future we are talking about!" a lecherous-looking man spoke, much to Harry's dismay. "And she certainly became powerful because she is a friend of Harry Potter."

That was the last straw.

"Miss Hermione Granger had worked hard to achieve what she has right now," he bit out, loudly than he intended, "Any of you have no right to talk about her in such way," without facing my wrath, he managed to stop himself before uttering the words, replacing it instead with, "after all the sacrifices she did."

He almost put out his wand to hex the bastards, he had always been impulsive when it came to her. He could easily let their insults against him slide… but when it came to the very person he lo – no, it wasn't his place to love her… but he would always fight for her and protect her.

The people who heard him stood there in shock, not expecting Harry Potter to make an appearance in the meeting. Everyone was tense and wide-eyed; even Harry's heart was beating rapidly.

"Gentlemen," the tense moments were abruptly ended by Kingsley Shacklebolt's authoritative yet calming voice. He suddenly stood before them, his hands raised as though he were ready to mediate in any brawl that might occur. "I believe that we must put this discourse on hold." The politicians acknowledged his presence immediately, or so it seemed, as they suddenly looked relaxed… or even remorseful.

Harry was almost awed by the sudden silence that he was not quite sure if he just made an irreparable outburst. He was thankful for Kingsley's sudden appearance nonetheless because it would have stopped him from getting any more attention and possibly saying more things that are susceptible to misconstruction.

"Gentlemen," he heard another voice from behind the Minister, and he suddenly froze, for he recognized it instantly. He was almost afraid to turn around, yet in the end he did not have to, because mere seconds later she appeared on his view as she stood right in front of him. She looked at him for the briefest of moments and he remained powerless, unable to speak or to move his limbs. It was almost like he saw her only for the first time, and that he fell in love with her at first sight. The truth was far from that thought yet the feeling was similar, and it was like the memories of the coast, his moments with her, were suddenly unlocked from the coffers of his heart. He could almost feel her touching him; he could almost see the smile dancing in her lips; he could almost hear her, calling his name…

"Auror Potter." The curt word brought him back to reality. The name sounded so cold as it escaped her lips. Yet it was her way of recognizing his presence, and the only proper way she could address him in front of everyone. Suddenly, he realized that her eyes were not as warm as he had remembered, for surely she saw him only as what he was now.

"Miss Granger."

His own words caused him pain. Yet that was how it truly was, wasn't it? He thought he had settled the matter a long time ago but his treacherous heart had gone against him once again. When would he ever learn? Maybe he never would, he realized.

Somehow as he was stupefied, he missed how the Minister of Magic convinced the people to go back to their respective departments or to retire for the day, as the conference was abruptly moved to another date due to a _very pressing matter_. Reluctantly, the politicians followed, and before he knew it, he found himself walking in an empty corridor. He was not sure how it happened, or what was actually happening at the moment. Seeing her caused his world to stop, and whatever defenses he had put up all but crumbled.

"Harry?"

Her voice was laced with more concern than she had intended when she realized that something was wrong. He remained silent all throughout Kingsley's speech and he moved almost mechanically when prodded to move forward. She already asked several questions and yet he did not reply to a single one. "Harry, are you all right?"

"Hermione, erm, sorry, what were you saying?"

There was something wrong with him, she concluded as she listened to his almost wispy voice. Something tugged at her heart when she came to that realization. He was not always like this. He was always so strong, almost stoic. But now he just seemed so different… "I was asking if… oh, never mind!" she said, her frustration getting the best of her.

This time, it was him who asked. "Are you okay?"

She gazed at him with the same searching looked she had been shooting him. "Are you?"

He didn't answer.

Slowly, tentatively, she examined him and put her hand on his forehead – his eyes were downcast, and his skin had an almost grayish pallor to it.

Seeing him this way pained her in an inexplicable way, and she had the sudden urge to reach out to touch his face. Instead, she placed a hand in his arm, hoping to still him. "You don't look well Harry. How many times did I tell you to take care of yourself?"

He looked at her and she saw his soft emerald eyes for the first time in a long while, and memories of her youth flashed in her mind. They always had looked at each other this way, when both of them were still students in Hogwarts… when both of them were all alone in the tent… they shared a connection that was only for them, even after the war. And now that he was much older, and so was she, and he was now dressed as an Auror and she was a figure in DMLE's many heads – it seemed like it was just only yesterday when both of them were really close.

"I'll try," he replied.

She was still a bit lost in his eyes that her mind only refocused when he looked away. The action elicited another feeling from her unexpectedly, that a different sense of anger filled her heart. "You haven't been visiting me in my office… and you didn't even owl me." _What changed?_

His back straightened as if hit by lightning due to her words, and for a while he seemed almost unsure of how to reply. "I was… busy. And I also knew you had a lot of important things to do… Sorry."

"No, it's okay. I was out of line, really," she replied, dismissing the issue. Her heart somehow softened at the way he spoke those words, and whatever anger she had quickly faded away. Instead, she had an urge to smile as she realized that he had not changed. "I was just frustrated that I never get a chance to talk to you these days, that's all. Thank you for taking care of me back then," as you always have, she added to herself, fondly remembering the words he said in her defense a while ago… fondly remembering all those times he had done the same thing in the past.

There was a passing look of dejection in Harry's eyes before he shook his head, as if saying it was nothing. With this he started walking forward and for a while they walked quietly side by side.

She expected him to say something more only to realize eventually that he probably wouldn't. "It must have been uncomfortable for you to stand up for me in front of all those people," she started. She knew Harry had been there for her since the very beginning, yet, it never failed to amaze her how he could do that without a second thought. "Maybe, when I couldn't remember anything… I must have been a burden, with me being helpless."

He stopped on his tracks as he gripped the sides of the slightly open door of Kingsley's office. He looked down once more, somehow avoiding her gaze. There was a distant look in his eyes as he spoke in an almost dazed manner.

"_Now_ is actually harder."

His voice was faint that she barely heard it, what with the sound of the door opening as he spoke. From inside she heard some bantering, and she was no longer given a chance to ponder on what he just said, but she knew his words somehow touched her heart in a way she could not explain. She felt the loneliness in them, and out of the blue, she wanted to call him back and… "Harry, I…"

She never got to finish what she was about to say because Harry grazed her cheek affectionately, but as soon the contact was established, he withdrew. "Back then," he started, recalling the memories he valued so much, however short they were, "you would always take a time to smile. There was even a time when you failed to cook a dish, yet you smiled and told me you can just try again. Even if you can't remember what happened, don't stop doing so… don't stop smiling."

Harry chuckled, looking at her, "I just thought you ought to know. It was because of Teddy that I told you that." He was tired. He was tired and this was killing him.

Hermione was left speechless while Harry entered the room. Here was a man who knew so much and yet refused to tell her anything but the bits and pieces of the memories he kept. Yet it occurred to her that he was telling the truth when she remembered a little boy hugging her tight, she remembered how the little boy actually told her about herself and somehow, it made her lips quirk into a small smile.

She followed him inside, but everything that happened seemed to pass on a blur. She was half-listening when Kingsley gave a set of missions to the Auror Office or when he answered inquiries about the parchment he handed to every head of the Ministry departments concerning new rules and policies that were finally implemented after the incident. Everything for her was background noise, save for the matters going on in her head. And before she could even blink and ponder what was being talked about, it was already over.

Remembering that memory… she realized that she felt so empty even after finally getting another piece of a puzzle… and she could not figure out the reason why.

It was only later when she realized… _he_ left without saying goodbye to her once again.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Thoughts? So... how did you find the chapter? The next one will be another big bomb so stay tuned and keep reviewing! :)


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